Cause And Effect Saga - Book 10: Shine
by Faylinn Night
Summary: Light will always find a way to shine through darkness; none liked to prove this more than Michelangelo. When he convinces Sophia to re-connect with her father, he hitches a ride to Italy. They visit Castello Piscio, her family's home castle, where Turtle Luck sets off some unexpected events. But he won't let anything stop him from proposing. [Mike/OC]
1. Attention

**Here you finally have it: Mike and Soap's mini book. My muse has been absent with my recent health issues, so posting from now on will be sporadic. I apologize, but I do have plans for more books and wholeheartedly hope the story is worth the wait.**

 **P.S. - For clarity's sake: Raph and Nia have three kids (twin girls named Selene and Nyx and then a boy named Keitaro) while Leo and Coyo have triplets (Yoshi II, Dai, and Zolin.) When it comes to genetics, these cousins strike 'big.' XD**

* * *

 **CHAPTER 01:** **ATTENTION**

Hamato Michelangelo leaned further into his ring of brothers. "I got it," he said. And he paused for effect, even if it was lost on the three deadpan mutants. "Hang gliding."

There was another pause—this one less planned.

"Hang gliding?" Leonardo echoed.

"Why not?"

Raphael rubbed below his eye-patch. "How the hell are ya gunna propose while hang glidin', Shell-for-Brains?"

"Just imagine," Mikey answered, "the dexterity and strength I show when I hold the handles from behind."

Donatello blinked. "Uh-huh."

"And I open the box...with my feet!"

A unanimous groan forced the brothers back in their seats in Saisei's living room, although their exaggeration made no sense. "What do you have against _that_ plan?"

"Pretty much the same as all the others we've gone over," Leo said.

"It's stupid," added Raph in a grumble.

Mike sent him a dry look. "Says the guy who 'proposed' and 'married' Nia in one night."

"We didn't need no ceremony. Neidder did Braniac 'n Gray."

"Well," Don said, "to have the choice would've been nice."

"'Sides, Doofus, I didn't hold Ni's face wit' my feet an' ask."

"I never mentioned anything about holding Hoshi with my feet, Raphy."

"Right, ya'd be too busy nosedivin' ta avoid her wrath."

"Why do you all have to be such sticks-in-the-mud?"

"We're not," answered Donny. "We're just here to keep things, ya know...reasonable."

"Hang gliding's reasonable. We got the Gliders!"

"Mike," Leo earned a huff and his youngest brother's blue-eyed stare, "you want this to be special. But special and ridiculous don't have to coincide."

"I've spent the last two years saving up for a ring," Mikey argued. "A _real_ ring, too—not some online discount home-project."

Raph growled at the hand gestured towards him and Leo narrowly stopped his anger from meeting the jokester's head.

"Thought counts more than price," their Jonin tacked on.

"Yeah?" Mike asked him. "Guess there has to be some truth in that since Coyo said 'yes' to your mutated pig necklace."

"It's called a Monamictia," Leo said through gritted teeth. "And it's an owl."

"It is?" Don asked Raph softly.

The Jonin waved his hands as the hothead shrugged. "That's not the point. Mike, I know you're excited Paige found this guy."

"He's not just a 'guy', Leo. He's a Justice of the Peace, who marries _mutants_! I mean, ya'll should consider renewing vows."

Don chuckled. "Mel would be petrified."

"My marriage was legal, if in another country," added Leo.

"An' Ni said she wouldn't wanna go through that mess for somethin' the rest 'a us consider real."

"Losers," Mikey grumbled. He crossed his arm with a pout, though when Leo rested a hand on his carapace from the couch's other side, he sighed.

"The best way to get Soap's attention is to be genuine," the Jonin said.

"You think I'd send a dummy up there gliding with her?"

Raph snorted. "There'd be a dummy one way or anoddah."

"Just keep thinking about it," Don told Mike. "Remember: the more impactful things sometimes aren't the flashiest."

"Yeah," Leo agreed, "you're a turtle, not a peacock."

Geez. Michelangelo rolled his eyes with as much exaggeration as he could muster. How'd he wind up with so many brothers who underappreciated creativity? ' _I bet Coyo would be more fun to plan with, but she can't keep a secret to save her life._ ' Who'd that leave? The Hamato Matriarchs, since the most notable Patriarch had given him similar advice to Leo and the other was, well, Gavin. ' _Hugh may be more ideas, too._ '

"Mike?"

The Jokester sent his eldest brother a look. "We'll just see what Mama A has to say. I bet she'll—" Mikey's arm vibrated with a text from his Smartband. He slid his finger across the ovular touchscreen to open its on-going thread with his should-be-mother-in-law. Unfortunarly, the mutant could only make out a few curses. "Ugh, I hate it when she answers in all Italian!"

"What'd ya piss her off wit' this time, Dork?"

"You don't know she's pissed, Raphy."

"It's written all over yer goofy face."

Mikey growled as he hid his Smartband screen, and Donny spared a gap-tooth smile, saying, "You'd think you'd know Italian by now."

"Dog commands, Dude. Mama A and Sophie don't make the best teachers."

"Not that you make the best student."

"It's complicated, alright? You guys are all on the same page as me. Except Leo. But the only reason he knows a third language is thanks to that alien mind-meld trick."

Everyone turned to Leonardo when he looked like he'd retort. He didn't. Or rather, he couldn't, and Donatello nodded when the Jonin stood down.

"He isn't wrong, Leo."

"I know."

"Look, you guys can sit here and be wet blankets," added Mike while standing. "I'm going to find more lively company."

"Women are in the kitchen, last I knew," Leo offered.

The orange-masked mutant glanced between the two eldest Hamatos. "Shouldn't you guys be on there too?"

"I was told I make more of a mess than my kids," Raph said first.

"Yoshi and Dai behave themselves, but Zolin gets distracted throwing food at me," Leo said second.

Mike shook his head. "And you call yourselves fathers."

The duo gave dirty looks that were hardly a concern by the jokester's standards. He twirled on a heel then entered the grand kitchen he knew better than any other ninja. Once, it had seemed empty. How could the clan possibly fill nearly twenty barstools along the island counters lining the walls? But it had grown smaller over the years, especially with their gaggle of kids running about. Nia camped in the only real open area, where she had easy access to food and six high-chairs occupied by Mike's nieces and nephews. He could smell the mixed flavors of their preferences, the heat of overused appliances, and the loudest complaints came from the most-often discontented hybrid.

Mike caught a red blob heading for his head, ducking to see it splatter against the brick wall behind him. "Whoa, attack of the killer tomatoes!"

"Come on, Zolin," Nia whined, "you gotta eat at least one vegetable."

"Aren't tomatoes a fruit, technically?" Mikey rounded the counter edge to face his artistic sister, who straightened while rubbing her hands down her dinosaur-print dress.

"You know," she started, "we wouldn't have near as much trouble getting them to eat healthier if _someone_ didn't spoil them."

"What? Moi? Spoil? Only with love! Have you considered they just may not like tomatoes?" Mike leaned in close to Zolin's chair to add in an undertone, "It's _your_ fault we got caught, Lin. You know what you did."

Zolin stared back with defiant eyes that matched Coyo's only in hue.

He smashed a tomato slice against his uncle's mouth with his five-fingered hand, and the older mutant sucked it up, maintaining a hard look. "You're lucky I like tomatoes, Kid. Reminds me of pizza."

"I swear this job gets harder as they age." Nia blew bangs out of her mis-matched eyes then pushed back the flyaways from her shoulder-length ponytail, smearing sweat across her cheeks.

"Where're the other soldiers?" Mike asked.

"Busy. Then Coyo's in the pantry, trying to find something that won't break Dai out in rashes."

"Poor fella. She could be lost in there for hours."

"She's gotten better at reading labels, but..." The artist glanced to the open door where shuffling noises sounded alongside the toddler chatter.

"I commend you for taking over all alone. Crazy lady."

"I'm praying Coyo comes back soon; she's the only one who can make Zolin behave."

Mikey chuckled. Of the three leaf-green triplets, he never pegged the youngest spitfire as a Mama's boy. However, the guilt across his sour-puss face whenever Coyo cried proved the nine-month-old hybrid had a conscious. Somewhere. Deep inside.

' _He's a lot like Raph, but less...remorseful. It's been nuts watching them grow._ ' They were amazing—all six—and Mikey glossed over their various \ complextions with a wide smile.

"Mikey-neechan, are you okay?"

"Look at 'em, Ni."

"I...am?"

"No. _Really_ look. Look at their potential, their future. They already outnumber the current Phantoms. We're going to be an army of butt-kicking green machines!"

"Do—do—don't start thinking about that just yet."

"Why not? They got lots of personality to add to the team. Take Yoshi, for instance." Mike kneeled by the eldest triplet occupied with balancing mac and cheese on a fork. He somewhat grimaced at the interruption, freckled cheeks pushing upwards as his uncle continued, "How are you this fine afternoon? Looking cleaner than any normal child should—a testament to your...let's call it 'attention to detail' and not 'a neurotic sickness,' kay? And Nyx." The orange-masked mutant need only turn the opposite direction to face the darkest-hybrid. "Always willing to boss around. Put that skill to better use than your Daddy, you could very well be the next leader! What do ya say?"

Nyx's teal and gold eyes narrowed as she pushed her eight sticky fingers against Mike's nose like he would steal her watermelon. "Away!"

The uncle whipped the fruit juice from his face. "Charmed as always. And still not leader material. That's okay. Maybe we should go another route: someone quiet and brooding like our very own Keitaro."

Mikey next visited the only hybrid with a shell who preferred to sit a chair-length's away from his sisters and cousins. He ate without complaint, verbal or otherwise, and Nia's Sight left her brother tingling when Keitaro glanced up—every bit his father's son, save for blue-green eyes and fine black hairs.

"He still refuses to say his first words, Ladies and Gents," Mikey said into a make-believe microphone. "But is he mimicking his mute sis? Or does he just have no desire to communicate? Which is it, Kei?"

Keitaro stared blandly at the 'microphone' offered to him.

"What a conundrum! You squander a gift, Good Sir. Selene, got any words—er, signs—for your grim brother?" The Jokester skipped over two highchair spaces to poke the long-haired toddler who silently laughed, face dirtied by mashed potatoes. "What? Nothing? Just giggles? I'll take 'em. We need the contrast to—"

A light slap sounded then Nia, "Lin, stop stealing from Dai!"

"Good gravy, again? Lin, Lin, Lin what've told you about sharing?" Mikey returned to Zolin. So what if the triplet disagreed with the proximity?

"Keep making that face, Lin-kun," Nia said, "it'll get stuck that way."

"Listen to your Aunty Nia; she's married to the perfect example."

Zolin cared about as much as his orange-masked uncle did about bugging the kids; he continued to push mashed tomatoes bits off his tray, whining in cave man talk.

"You spend too much time with that the example," Mikey continued. "I've never seen a kid glare so skillfully."

"I think he was born that way."

The Jokester took a moment to reflect on the baby pictures gathered in the scrapbooks Mia had started. "I think you're right. But I guess every team needs some tough guys. He may've been made that way to pick up the slack from the less violent members. Like Sel and Dai."

"I—I don't think Dai will ever be a fighter."

"What do ya mean?" Regarding the center highchair, Mikey spotted Dai. The hybrid wore a knitted hat, despite it being summer, and whimpered as he waved away a fly from his lunch. The Chūnin bent down to his eye level and didn't speak again until Dai stopped flinching long enough to meet his uncle's gaze. "Oh, he'll fight. He has the blood of a great ninja warrior flowing through his veins."

Dai's bottom lip jutted out as his almond eyes glistened.

"Or not," Mikey amended. "You don't gotta. Come on, don't cry."

"There's no shame in not wanting to fight, Dai-kun," Nia said. "You can stay here with Aunty Nia and Sel-chan."

"Enabler."

"Excuse me?"

"Nothing. Coyo!" Mikey raised his arms to bring attention to the frazzle-haired native who returned with questionable bags of organic food and Twitch atop her head. "You survived your pantry raid. Got any idea where Hoshi is?"

The change in subject made the sister-cousin's exchange a look, although they took it in stride, as they should.

"Why not call her face?" Coyo asked. She pointed to the video intercom system Donatello had installed, and Mikey scoffed.

"I don't wanna announce to all of Saisei I'm looking for her. I wanna surprise her."

"But voices always surprise." The native shuddered from what was likely a memory of her stabbing one of the sub-systems with a knife. Somewhere, Donny shuddered as well; Mikey just knew it.

"If you aren't going to help, Mikey-neechan, please stop distracting the kids."

"Geeze, Mama Bear, alright. I'm on a hunt anyway. Just," he glanced at the hybrids, "got side-tracked by cuteness. I'll leave you to it."

When Mikey returned to the living room, his brothers were nowhere in sight. Odd, but the sun hadn't set, which meant they hadn't left for patrol without him. He resolved to find them later and headed upstairs. He found Cuddles climbing the brick wall just outside the bathroom, and gathered the albino tarantula with both hands.

"You know you give Raph a heart attack," he said. "As funny as it is, I don't trust him not to squash you in fear. Got it?"

Cuddles waved her half-leg.

"What is it, Girl? Something wrong?"

The fuzzy half-leg waved again. It seems to point to the ajar door decorated with a metal star. Inside seemed still, but Cuddles' twitches and a gut feeling told the mutant that wasn't the case. He entered to find Sophia in the near-dark, hunched over something on the floor beside their bed. She didn't notice him until the mutant's foot found a stale chip. He cringed, and the slender blonde spun in a defensive position before hiding her hands behind her back.

"Ooh, mystery," Mikey said.

Hoshi panted softly as if at war with her emotions.

"What's that?" her boyfriend pressed.

"Niente."

"If it's nothing, why you hiding it?" Cuddles still in hand, the Chūnin attempted to peek behind Hoshi, but she was quick enough to evade. "Is it a present? Is it for me?"

"Figo."

"Let's see. It's not Christmas. Too late for DAFHT. Birthday and Easter were a while ago. Uh, what else is there? Saint Paddy's Day? We had some drinks for that, just because Gavin's Irish."

"It's not any of that."

"Hope not. Now we're down to things like President's Day and Tax Day. No one cares about those."

"Ugh, Figo," Sophie growled. "It's _not_ a present!"

"Then what is it? I've never seen that shoebox before."

"Because _you_ aren't the one who cleans our room."

"Don't change the subject. Hoshi," Mikey's voice softened, "you know you don't have to keep secrets from me."

"It isn't—" The blonde huffed as she stood. "It's not a secret, either."

"Then what is it?"

"Hard, okay? It's hard." Sophia's hazel eyes struck Michelangelo with a rare vulnerability that overcame him with the need to free his hands in case she outright crumbled. She chewed her pink lips, cast her vision aside as her boyfriend let Cuddles crawl up his neck unto his carapace.

"Hey." Mikey uncircled her waist.

Somehow, she felt smaller than usual when she lifted her hands along his plastron. Numerous papers blossomed from her hold. It seemed a miracle they stayed in one piece through their mended rips, stains, and creases. Although the faded letters on them were in Italian, the mutant sensed sorrow and pain in the ink—a raw sensation, which ran from paper to Hoshi to Mikey.

"It's my father's birthday," Sophie said. "These letters...are from him."


	2. Contact

**CHAPTER 02:** **CONTACT**

Sophia Moretti's fist made contact with Raphael's face, and the mutant turtle corkscrewed sideways from the force. An impressive thump marked his collision with the dojo wall, strewn below a swaying sandbag, and although the nerves in her left hand burned, the blonde smirked.

"Ya ain't won nothin' yet, Pink," the hothead spat.

"Really?" Soph glanced from side to side. "I don't see anyone else standing."

"Ain't a maddah 'a who's standin'."

"That's actually the _point_ of a fight."

"Spar."

"Whatever. Why do this to yourself, Defi? We both got shells; mine's just more powerful."

Defi sat up then spit out a wad of blood onto the straw floor. "I gotta get stronger."

"You'd have a better chance of that if you kept wearing those hand-wrap-gauntlet-things Tatuaggi showed ya."

"Yeah, well, last time I used those, I got an ear-full from the oddahs."

"Oh, my fracture healed. They just worry."

"Ya're tellin' me. But..." Sighing, the mutant turtle stood stiffly. "Mike hoards the oddah SHELL. Don 'n Leo got super juice. Their strength 'n speed ain't somethin' I can come by naturally. Best I can do is train wit' someone on their level. Gray's always got her nose in a book. My broddahs hold back. Who's that leave?"

Soph waved an armored hand—a bright reminder of the pink and white paint job her boyfriend had worked so hard on. "I've heard all that already. Genio has Saisei armed to the teeth, though. Those nerd types aren't one to fall into the same trap twice."

"Those nerd types? Who's the chick always in the lab messin' wit' Don's gadgets."

"He likes the help, no matter what threats he makes."

"Mike's Hover Board is what suffers from those threats."

"We all have our cross to bear."

Defi shook her head, tattered bandana tails flowing as he rubbed his mask's sewn-up eye hole. "Donny could put us in the most impenetrable bubble. Don't maddah. I gotta know I can stand against anyone. I won't be powerless like I was when the Lair collapsed. I'll protect my family. Ni, my babies."

Sophia met his amber eye, humor dying with her growing frown, "Then go get those damn hand-wraps."

" _Sophia_."

' _Ah, shit. Caught by the warden._ ' The blonde spun to face the dojo's sliding door entrance. Melody stood with crossed robotic arms over her poncho. Under normal circumstances, the blonde would poke fun at the redhead's exposed legs, but what little good mood she had managed to fake left the moment she realized the sparring match was over.

"I'm going, I'm going, Sorriso. Don't blow a gasket."

Soph passed the cyborg, although the belated cooperation meant little when it came to doctor's orders. Heavy footfalls followed until a grip strong enough to flex her SHELL's plating turned her by the shoulder.

"You agreed," Melody said. "Use the SHELL only in emergencies."

"Defi's feelin' weak. I call that an emergency."

"This is serious."

"It always is with you. I doubt you have a funny feature." The redhead stepped closer, and when the blonde need only lift her chin to make eye contact, it reiterated how much height she had gained over the years.

"I've kept my findings between us," added Melody. "Explained away the growth spurt with your injection at the Island. Told them it was a residual consequence of a near-dormant marker in your DNA."

"Which is true."

"Even so, the SHELL presents many negative effects. Not the least of which is expedited neurological decay. The human body isn't meant to handle the strain; it's why the SHELLs never made it to mass production."

"I thought that was because they were too expensive?"

"The Damn Mechanic can tweak it all he wants," the cyborg continued hotly, "at the core, it works by altering the nervous system through experimental nanite-technology. It's volatile. Only reason Michelangelo is better adapted is contributed to his Mutagen."

"Maybe I should get me some of that, then."

Melody glared. "Keep this up, numb limbs won't be your only issue."

"I'm not going to paralyze myself," Soph countered.

"No one ever plans on being paralyzed."

"No. It just happens. Like some crazy lady Shish Kabobing you on a building." The cyborg flinched, yet the verbal attack worked in Sophia's favor. Melody reverted to her listless state, and the blonde patted her loose, metal arm. "I'm going to shower now. Unless that's too much for my poor body to handle."

"You will regret it," the redhead whispered. Maybe. But Soph waved her away as she headed upstairs.

* * *

"Mum! You back from work?" Having showered and packed away her SHELL, Sophia walked into her bedroom dressed in nothing more than a towel. She wasn't surprised to see a plump woman with frayed pale hair seated on her bed, but she didn't expect her to be reading over the letters her daughter had stuffed back into their shoebox home. "Mum?"

"Nineteen-ninety-six," Mum whispered in Italian, "seems so long ago."

"It was," Sophia answered in kind. Her wet foot hesitated to bring her closer to her mother, although she pushed through the insecurity by reminding herself she needed to get dressed. The door clicked when she kicked it closed, and she did her best to ignore the pit in her stomach from the conversation she sensed coming.

"I didn't know you kept these, too, Sophie."

"Too?" The blonde rubbed her body dry, glancing towards the bed. "Mum..."

With a long, shaky sigh, her mother picked up an additional letter pile. They were different from Sophia's letters in one distinct way: the older blonde had kept them well-preserved, the only creases being those purposely made to fold them into an envelope.

"You talked with Figo, didn't you?" the daughter asked.

"Come."

Soph obeyed only after she slipped into the bra and panties she pulled out of her dresser. She joined her mother on the bed, feeling venerable on multiple levels, and allowed the older blonde to wrap an arm around her waist.

"We're so similar, Sophie. My brother used to say I didn't have a youngest daughter. I had a clone. Cosima was more like your father."

"I remember the stories."

"Because you kept the letters."

"I should's burned the stupid things."

"Judging by the state of some, you tried." Mum chuckled, even though her daughter failed to see the humor. "I thought I was the weak one," she added in a softer tone. "That's why I never told you about these."

Odd enough; that was the reason Sophia kept the papers hidden as well. She huffed, feeling her mother's rough fingertips across the gun-shot scar along her lower abdomen.

"You want to read some of what he wrote me, Tesori?"

Soph scowled. "I don't care what that asshole has to say."

"If that were true, you would've been able to go through with burning his letters."

Ugh; logic sucked. With rolling eyes, the blonde waited to feel the faint pressure of paper in her lap before looking down.

 _February 2, 2007_

 _'Amore Mio, Adeline,_

 _You haven't answered any of my letters over the last twelve years. Forgive the pleading at the start; I understand now. It's okay. You may not have been here in body or spirit, but I need you to know even writing these letters has helped..._

 _While I know I won't get a reply, I have to ask: how's Sophie? Our baby's graduating high school soon. Little late. But better late than never, right? She makes up for it with her science honors. I just wish I could see everything she made, not just the highlights from the school paper.'_

Sophia withheld a snort. In a similar note, Eligio had asked for details about her projects. She never answered, and ever since Michelangelo discovered her secret, that made her feel more susceptible to guilt.

' _Parole is soon. I don't expect help or money or a place or a welcome. Hell, damn me, wish I never get another job, hit me, yell—just let me_ _see_ _you. I need to see you, Adie. You and Sophie. I want to hold you, kiss you, confess my regret over and over. It's far from plausible. But I do._ '

Shit! Soph shoved the letter back into her mother's ample breasts with a growl. Her eyes stung as she curled her fists in her lap and she hated it. It was all her damn boyfriend's fault, too. Had he not insisted on a therapy session, the blonde could've remained calloused.

"Michelangelo did talk with me," Mum confirmed. She used a tender touch to smooth the damage her daughter had caused to the paper then rocked sideways. "It's been almost twenty years."

"And he deserved to spend them _all_ in prison."

"Maybe..."

"Maybe?" Sophia pulled away, damp hair fanning around her shoulders. "He got Cosima _killed_!"

"That was never his intent, Sophie."

"I don't give a shit what his 'intent' was."

"Just admit you do. It'll make asking this a lot easier."

"Asking what?" The thinner blonde narrowed her eyes, nevertheless her mother was undeterred, as usual.

Mum pressed her shoulder against her daughter's, gaze caught by the numerous star tattoos that commemorated the dead, particularly Cosima's. "Donatello did some research," she said.

"I know. That was years ago. We sent e-mails and everything, remember? Before we told them it was best they move on."

"He didn't research your just uncle. He researched your father, too."

"Eligio. _Not_ father."

"Just listen!" Harsh fingers jerked Sophia's face towards her mother's hard stare. "He's in Calenzano. Not far from Florence."

"You're falling for Figo's charm, aren't you?"

The grip on Soph's chin tightened until it hurt. "If there's one thing I can admit, it's that when it comes to emotions and understanding, you hit the jackpot with Michelangelo. He's been so good for you, made you happy. I wish you would just propose already."

"Mum."

"It's true."

"So?"

"Stop whining. He makes excellent points. Your father paid for his crimes. He never ran from them or denied them; he owned up to them. And he's lived the last seven years thinking we're dead as well."

"Not our fault."

"Yes, it is. Sophie—"

Sophia rose from the bed with such force, her hips popped. "No way in hell. I won't do it."

"You told Michelangelo you'd think about it."

"I did. Answer's no."

"Then you can wait here." Mum's resolve had been set, and it wore on her daughter's will.

"Mum, please. You can't see him alone."

"So come with me."

"I'd kill him."

"Actually"—Mum gave a grim smile—"I think that would make him happy if it meant seeing your face."

' _Ugh, all these stupid people! Why do I love them?_ ' Huffing, the younger blonde pushed back her hair so hard it forced water to drip from the tips. The cold moistness felt good against her hot skin yet inside she still boiled.

"No one's saying it'll be easy or won't hurt," Mum added. "I'm not promising I won't want to back out at some point when the time comes, either. I need to try, though. I need to put that part of me to rest. We won't stay with him. We won't offer he move here with us. Just one visit. I"—the woman's voice began to waver—"I have to see him, Sophie. Despite everything...he's...he's my husband."

"That why you never bothered to divorce him?" Sophia kept a salty tone; the alternative would've been to cry as her mother softened like some dumped schoolgirl. "Just one time?"

"One time," Mum whispered. "And, yes, we'll visit your cousins first."

"What about Nonna and Nonno?"

"You know your grandparents would never leave Castello Piscio."

" _We_ were the ones supposed to inherit that."

"We were. Then some restless little punk decided she needed to fight Italy's darkness." The older blonde laughed and smiled, though below the mask Soph saw regret warring with pride.

"I'm sorry, Mum."

"Don't apologize for who you are."

"I'm the reason your life turned upside down."

"You are. But that happened much sooner than you think. When you and Cosima were born, that changed my world. But after—" Mum choked. "You're the reason I fought to be a better mother. You're why I _survived_."

"And was kicked out of Italy."

"To come here, where we've gained another family. Tesori." Mum offered her hands, and Sophia hesitated to wrap her fingers around their pliable wrinkles. "I can't imagine you standing by anyone other than Michelangelo. The good he brings out in you erases all those nights in Palermo, wondering if you'd get shot again or break more bones."

"I started being Starberry Girl here, too. My hiatus wasn't long."

"But you aren't alone anymore. _He's_ out there, watching you, guarding you."

"Annoying me."

"He loves you. Unconditionally."

"Easy on the sap there, Mum."

"Tesori, I'm happy for you. Happy I get to see at least one of my babies grow up into an exceptional, if not rude, woman."

"You think I'm rude?" Mum's smile grew more sincere as Sophie cocked her head. "It should've been two babies."

"Everything would've been different if there were. Maybe for the better. Maybe for worse. We'll never know; this—what we have now—is what we should focus on. Cosima is gone, and I'll never stop missing her. Your father feels that too. But he has to go to sleep every night knowing it's his fault."

"And that makes it alright?"

"Not alright. Bearable. He's living with a knife in his heart. That both hurts and satisfies me."

It hurt Sophia's as well, even though she kept her lips tightly pressed.

"I've already had Donatello contact your uncle. We're making arrangements."

"It won't be too dangerous? What if Bishop—"

"Donatello insisted he had that front covered. I trust him."

"Yeah, so do I. I guess."

"Will you do it, then?"

Soph drew in air through her nose, lightheaded and nauseous as she nodded.

* * *

 **Soap is such a stubborn snot. I can't believe at one point she was supposed to be agreeable and cutesy. SMH**


	3. Humor Me

**Sorry, guys, health hasn't been too good.**

 **Sciencegal - They make a good balance, if I do say so myself. :)**

 **D - Thanks, and I apologize for all the kiddos. It's something I fought with for years and...I know it can be off-putting, but they all have voices that want to be heard. U.U**

* * *

 **CHAPTER 03:** **HUMOR ME**

The camera swung like a pendulum from Michelangelo's neck, its weight clanking against his plastron when he came to a sudden stop at the stair's bottom landing. "Ready!" he announced. His clan, however, didn't seem to understand the obvious.

"What are doing?" Donatello asked.

"I packed," Mikey answered with a firm nod. "Got everything a tourist will need. Check it out—"

Raphael held up the arm not preoccupied with holding Keitaro. "No one cares about yer dork pouch, Doofus."

"Mikey-needchan," Nia resituated her twins on her hips, "I—I—I think they're wondering why you...w—we—went through that trouble."

"I didn't even know you _owned_ a Hawaiian shirt," Donny added.

"I've never had the right occasion, Donny Boy. I may not be going to Hawaii, but Italy is close enough."

The Genius blanched. "No, actually. They're not."

"Mike." Leo's measured tone brought attention to the blue-masked Jonin. Two triplets sat along his forearm—judging by the tail peeking out from one's diaper, the jokester would guess they were Dai and Yoshii—but despite being a personal perch for his sons and Yolotli, he maintained every bit of that 'leader of the pack' vibe.

"Okay, so I didn't ask," Mikey said.

"No, you didn't." Sophia crossed her arms. Still, even when she glared she looked cute. "This is complicated enough without you, Figo."

"I'll say," Donny tacked on. "You have no idea the kind've hoops I had to jump through to procure them these tickets and car rental."

The orange-masked mutant snapped his fingers then pointed at his brother. "That's the beauty: I don't need a ticket. Green skin kind'a gives away my cover."

"Even if you could slip by customs—and that's a huge _if_ —what do you plan to do there?" asked Leo sternly. "Where will you stay?"

Mikey waved a hand. "Oh, it's June. It'll be fine outside, camp somewhere around Hoshi's old homestead."

"With the EPF abroad there, too?"

"Oh, come on, Leo. Please, please, _please_?"

"Mike."

"Its Italy, man! Birthplace of pizza, pasta. Where Madame V spent her golden years."

"Home of your girlfriend?"

"Yeah, that too." Hoshi rolled her eyes as Mikey returned to his iron-faced brother with a puppy dog pout. "You went to South America."

"That's—"

"Don't you say different. I'm every bit the ninja you are. Donny's done reconfigured our Smartbands with his stealth technology, anyway."

"It still has bugs," Donny mentioned.

"Awk!" Yo screeched. "Has bugs! Coyo has bugs!"

Everyone turned to the bobbing Blue-Throated McCaw perched on Leo's upper marginal scute. Beside him, Coyolxauhqui fought to keep Zolin secured while he tortured Twitch, but the only thing she seemed to notice was the curls the Flying Squirrel pushed into her face as he sought sanctuary higher in the native's hair.

"Buggy or not, it works," Mikey added. "I'll stay off the radar, out of site, and officials will be none the wise."

"What about when ya get ta Italy, Shell-for-Brains?"

Mikey faced Raphy. "A city's a city and I got Hoshi as a tour guide."

The blonde snorted. "What makes you think I wanna spend precious hours toting you around?"

"Because I'm worth it. Besides, you gotta show me the sights."

"We aren't going to Palermo, Figo. My family lives around Florence."

"It may not be as exciting, but." The jokester exaggerated a shrug; he was aware of much yet wanted to keep things light for his girlfriend's sake.

' _She's nervous enough thinking about how near her Dad is to her hometown. She needs my sense of humor now more than ever._ '

"Figo, I'm a big girl. I'll be fine with Mum."

Necessity had nothing to do with the choice and Michelangelo reached for his girlfriend with a touch that told her so. She looked up, not quite as far as she once did when they first met but with just as much guardedness. She tensed her crossed arms, shared a look with Melody of all people then settled her hazel eyes on Leonardo.

"He's your mess, Capo."

"Mine?" The Jonin cracked a smile. "Not totally. Not anymore."

Mikey glanced between the duo. "Are...are you asking _permission_ , Hoshi?"

"As if. I just don't wanna be blamed when you get in trouble."

"No, no. You care. You respect him."

"Do not."

"Do to."

"Don't make me hurt you." The blonde snarled while her boyfriend cackled with a force that drew curious looks from the hybrids.

' _Man, it's no wonder she and Raphy have similar resting-bitch faces. They're some 'a the only people I know who can start a fight just by staring into space._ '

"If he goes, Sophia," Leo started, "you gotta promise to keep him on a tight leash."

Hoshi's snarl turned into a Cheshire grin. "Literally?"

"Dude!" The jokester spread his arms out. "Do I look like a pet?"

"Sometimes you need treated like one," Leo admitted.

"I'm smarter than the average bear, yanno?"

Raph scoffed. "That's up for debate." Nia lightly slapped his bicep, which hurt his pride more than his muscle, and Sophia re-gathered her ponytail.

"Does this mean I have to set up a new babysitter for Cuddles?"

"Don't ya dare look this way, Pink."

But the blonde did with a smile, knowing the artist he loved would be more than eager for the job. "Make sure she gets exercise, Calza."

"Uh-huh."

"Feeding day's Tuesday. Live food only."

"I—I—I'll do my best not to save the crickets."

"Keep an eye on the water and temperature. The room shouldn't get too hot, but—"

"It won't let it stay above eighty and know to give her new water three times a day. I've taken care of Cuddles before."

"Yeah, but...not for this long."

"I won't let Raph, Yo-kun, or Pez-kun hurt her, Soap-neechan. Girl Scout's honor." Nia smiled, Raph grimaced, but even though Mikey added a snigger to the levity, the blonde inhaled slowly.

"It'll be a million times better with me along for the ride, Sophie," the orange-masked mutant started. He rested his hands along his girlfriend's slender hips, pulling her towards him as if ready for a slow dance. "Come on. I wanna see where you grew up."

Hoshi smiled at the three-fingers that fluffed her bangs and she gave Mikey a short yet satisfying peck before separating. "It's way better than New York, Figo."

"Oh? Why'd ya leave then?" He received a crude hand gesture in response. Not that it bothered him; her spitfire personality was a leading factor in why the Chūnin never wanted to let her go.

"You sure about this, Mike?" Leo watched Hoshi double-check her backpack. "If something goes wrong—"

"She shouldn't be alone," Mikey said in an undertone. "Or Mama A, for that matter. I have to be there, Dude. You'd do the same for Coyo."

"I've done the same for Coyo." Sighing, the Jonin glanced at his wife then back at his youngest brother. "No risks. Please."

"I'm just there to hold her when she sees her father again. I promise, no one else will know I'm there."

"Oi, Figo, if you're coming, we gotta get to Lincoln Square to pick up Mum. Guess we'll take the Battle Shell."

"And who's going to drive it back?" Donny interjected.

"Thanks for volunteering, Genio. Let's go."

"Yeah," Mikey agreed, "let's get this party started!"

"I'm sure you won't feel as enthusiastic after your eleven-hour flight." Don followed the traveling couple to the front door and Hoshi attended the security features while her boyfriend paled.

"My what?"

* * *

Eleven hours plus delays equaled to hell. Half the time, Mikey limbs went numb. The other half was spent fighting off boredom while grappling with luggage. Point being: traveling below coach sucked.

'I think I have bruises on my bruises.' The mutant cracked his neck and cringed at the sound. 'Come on, Hoshi, I can't sit around anymore.'

True, the blonde had far more customs to pass than him. Still, wasn't the way out supposed to be a shorter wait than getting in? He sat atop Florence Airport, cloaked along the flat roof's lip, and almost fell asleep by the time his Smartband vibrated.

 _Figo, come to the back-side of the building and jump. We got the rental._

Jump? What'd she mean by jump? Like onto the car? Mike asked as he made his way to the alley between the main building and a second one he knew nothing about. A reply came fast.

 _Just get your big shell down here and be ready to dive inside when we roll by. Damn EPF has higher security than when I left. Fooling their sensors is proving more difficult than expected._

How difficult?

 _We have one blind spot, one chance to get you in without causing a scene. Take it, or spend your trip here._

Alright, alright. Mikey grinned. His girl was so easy to work up, it was fun. But he cooperated by jumping into the designated alley without incident. He hugged the wall while listening for any approaching vehicles above whining planes and chattering white noise. When an orange hatchback headed his way, his smile grew so wide, his girlfriend needn't see his face to sense his humor.

"The color is consequential, Figo," she whispered out the passenger window. She mistook where he stood, though. "Get in the back and stay down."

"How far back? Am I banned to the trunk?"

"We put the backseat down already. Just get in the damn car before the camera frequencies reset!"

' _Yeesh, she really is stressed, ain't she?_ ' With that in mind, Mikey slipped in the back and car began moving again before he even shut the door. He decided against commenting, situating himself into a comfortable position made difficult by the low roof, suitcases, and a high seat platform.

"Don couldn't get a bigger car?" He asked.

Blue eyes lifted in the rearview mirror, though Hoshi replied, "We get what the company gives. Besides, we don't want to seem like we're toting a big load."

"You are."

"Exactly."

The mutant sighed as he braced himself for the long turn that led to the main road. "I'm surprised you're driving, Mama A. I thought for sure Soph would take over."

The younger blonde ducked her head when her mother laughed. "Sophie never got her license."

"Are you serious? But, she's driven the Battle Shell and-and a helicopter, for Heaven's sake!"

"You don't have a license either, Figo."

"Because I'm a mutant. Geez, all this time I thought you were the only one 'a us to be street legal. So to speak."

"She is in the States," added Adeline. "Here? She had her permit for less than a year before we moved. She doesn't remember any of the laws, either."

"I had other things going on, Mum."

Mikey did the math in his head. "Weren't you, like, nineteen by then?"

"Driving ages are different here," Hoshi said. "Eighteen minimum to apply and you gotta hold that permit for a year."

"Woah, hardcore."

"Oh, you'll see the reason why."

"Exciting. Can we see some sites along the way in the meantime?"

The younger blonde groaned.

"Oh, come on, this is my first time here! Your family's home is a few cities over, right? Just take the scenic route."

"Genio's Smartband doesn't have enough charge to keep you cloaked for that long."

"It'd have more time if someone didn't leave me waiting on a roof for almost an hour." Mikey felt his girlfriend's glare boring into him yet smiled widely while standing the suitcases against the back windows and pulling on a hoodie and sunglasses he pulled out of his backpack. "See? Now I'm just a big guy no one will really cares about."

Hoshi made a face. "You're still green."

"Who's going to be staring in her long enough to notice? Besides, the sun's going down."

There was a breathy chuckle from the driver and she pushed her daughter's shoulder. "You won't win, Sophie."

"I hardly ever do."

"So it's settled. Come on, Mama A, bring on the history!"

* * *

The best part of Adelin's tour was a tie. On the one hand, the awesome three-sixty view at a place called Piazzale Michelangiolo not only had a great name; it also gave an awesome overview of Florence (particularly the Dome and a literal bridge of houses named Ponte Vecchio.) On the other hand, seeing even glimpses of his namesake's art lent him a bit of pride and inspiration. He has packed his notebook for such an occasion and the only thing to tear him away from his world building was food.

"This is ice cream?" he asked, taking the cone Sophia offered.

"Gelato," she answered. "Pumpkin Pie for you, weirdo."

"Says the one who got one that looks radioactive."

"It's lemon."

"Boring."

"Stuff it, and enjoy because we're not making any more stops."

"What if I gotta pee?"

"Use a water bottle."

"I'd let you out," Adeline interjected.

The mutant met the blue eyes laughing in the review mirror. "Thanks, Mama A."

"Can we just focus on getting there now?"

"So tense, Hoshi." Mikey smiled, even though his girl's bitterness had done nothing except worsen over the last few hours. It wasn't the detour that put her on edge, it was the fact that she hadn't seen her family for years and her father for far longer than that.

' _She's nervous. But she should let herself enjoy being back in Florence. If she spends all her time dreading what's to come, she'll come out of this heavier rather than lighter._ '

Could he explain that, though? No.

She wouldn't listen given her current defensiveness, so the mutant settled for quietly enjoying his treat as the hatchback took them further from the city's bustle. By the time they began driving up steep back roads through forests, the mutant wondered whether or not Adeline remembered where she was heading. She seemed certain every time he asked, though, and assured him to enjoy the ride. Which would've been much easier if the looming trees looked less ominous in the creeping night and the hatchback didn't pull into a washed-out driveway that made him fear they'd slip down the mountainside.

' _Wait, is this is? When they said they lived in a castle, I was thinking something a little more..._ '

Impressive. This thing? Calling it a fixer-upper tacked onto a cliff would be generous.

"Piscio Castle," Adeline breathed. Somehow, her accent sounded more prominent like the site of chipped ceramic and dust-covered windows made her relax into full Italian mode.

Mikey leaned towards Hoshi as the hatchback parked to clarify, but she watched the castle with as much mysticism as her mother, whispering, "Home."


	4. Castello Piscio

**Prepare to meet Soap's family.**

* * *

 **CHAPTER 04:** **CASTELLO PISCIO**

Last time Sophia had stepped into Castello Piscio, she had just graduated high school. Those seven years in her absence had done little to change it. Lush moss and ivy still weaved through its ceramic roof tiles, sheltering (however shoddily) the castle's tiers, as well as the largest tower where her grandparent's claimed their suite decades ago. Happy plants hung from the metal catwalk that ran from her master suit's balcony to the watchtower where the family often shared morning coffee. Its white bricks were every bit as grimy as the blonde remembered—maybe more so—and it still had the best vista of Florence from the steep walkway that curved down the cliff face her birthright melded into.

"Never thought I'd miss that musty smell," Mum said in Italian.

Soph breathed in the scent with a nod then placed her hands on her hips as she watched early-morning sunrays refract through the low-altitude clouds that swallowed the castle's base.

"Is Michelangelo—"

Sophia cut off her mother, "He's already in ninja-mode, Mum. I told him I'd text when we figured out sleeping arrangements."

"He's not sleeping with us."

"We'll see." The blonde beckoned her mother closer, although she couldn't ignore the dragging gravel that persisted up until the duo stood at Castello Piscio's patina-stained door. "Why're you dragging your feet?"

The plump woman straightened her blouse, wordless.

"Oh man, are you nervous? It isn't like they don't know we're coming."

"We let them know we were alive. That isn't to say they'll be happy."

"'Course they'll be happy."

"That the attitude you had when Marco tracked you down?"

Not in the least bit. But Sophia would rather face blind optimism than fear and swung the door open because, hell, when was it ever locked? ' _God, the plastic furniture covers, the leak buckets, the crosses above every archway, the dingy carpets. Feels good to be back!_ '

"Sophia," Mum chided, "now would be the best time to show some manners."

"What? You want me to knock to come into my own house?"

"At least pretend I raised a young woman and not some—"

Bodies began to pop sideways from the room's largest archway. First two then three then five, only one of which had dark hair.

"Sophia?" the dark-haired man asked. "Zia Addie! About time you got here. What'd you do? Take the scenic route?"

"Maybe we did. What's it to ya?"

"Nonna wouldn't let us stop cooking until you got here."

"Us? You got Dina in the kitchen?"

"Only for the booze," added a young blonde. She wore black-rim glasses and side-turned baseball cap while chewing gum like a cow did on cud. "Nonno and I have been testing our wines for poisons."

"Not dead yet!" A boisterous man spanned the width of both his youngest grandchildren, yet Soph's knew his tan face could switch from Teddy Bear to Grizzly Bear in a matter of seconds. He continued laughing as someone pushed him aside: his petite wife a faction of his size and twice his presence.

"Nonna!" Soph announced with open arms.

"Tesori," Nonna cooed.

Something felt off. Mum was smart; she put distance between the eldest woman and herself before Sophia even realized she had moved. When Soph glanced back, she spotted a wooden spoon that made her scamper backward.

"Nonna," she started. Still, the spoon rose and the eldest granddaughter fought to keep down subpar airline food. "No—Nonna, wait!"

"I thought you were _fucking dead_!" It was amazing how red, frail, and miniature Noona looked after the time away, but she bellowed with the force of a Titan and her spoon cracked when it met the couch Sophia had jumped over. "Do you know what you _did_ to my heart? My _blood pressure_?"

The younger blonde swallowed a smart comeback to dodge the lamp tossed her away. It was plastic, thankfully, and rolled to stop by Mum.

"A little help?" Soph spat. Mum shook her head silently as if blending into the crazy statures her family collected. "Traitor."

"What kind of irresponsible girl gets herself and mother kicked out of an entire country?"

"It's a little complicated, Nonna."

"Complicated?" Nonna's spoon whacked an end tablet—a sharp sound that made Sophia flinch inside and out. "Know what's complicated? My test results! Santin sauce recipes! Brain surgery!"

"Well, if—if you'd let me explain—"

"Explain my ass. There's no excuse for what you did. You hurt this _entire_ family. Abandoned us! Adeline"—Nonna waved her wooden spoon so close under her granddaughter's nose that she could smell the savory marinara sauce—"you left Evasio to deal with Liana alone. His sister, big sister. Turned her back. And for what?"

"It wasn't her fault!" Soph cried. She squared her shoulders and Nonna stared up in mild surprise. Maybe due to their new height difference or because the younger blonde stood her ground, a hand tightly curled around her mother's meaty bicep. "Please. I can explain everything. If you don't want to hear it yet, we could find a hotel."

Nonna gawked. "Hotel? Nonsense. You march your asses into that kitchen and help finish the meal we've been preparing for _you_." Mum shared a look with Sophia, who hesitated until the matriarch added, "Now!"

* * *

How had she lived so long without her grandmother's cooking? Mum did well, but the fact remained that she lacked the years experience Nonna held. Sophia piled pasta and meats and cheeses on her plate without any regard for what touched and enjoyed how, for once, she and her cousins sat at the 'grown-up' table.

"I'm cursed with messes," Nonna said above the table chatter. Nonno, Zio Evasio and Mum all continued their own conversation, and Soph thanked years at Saisei for keeping her conditioned to navigating multiple conversations at once. "And look what's happened."

Mouth overstuffed with pasta, Sophia glanced across the table.

"You're practically bones!" Nonna continued. "Why are you so skinny?"

"She's always been that way," Dina interjected. The blonde bumped her large thigh against her older yet scrawnier cousin. "Right, Scheletro?"

Soph sucked in her pasts and swallowed. "Easy, Cosciona. I can still whip your ass."

"Gunna dish out some special moves?"

Nonna's scoff broke her granddaughters' staring contest. "Not at the table, she's not. Now, eat."

The blondes watched one another from the corner of their eyes, although obeyed. When she took a bite of brochette, Soph felt her phone vibrate.

 _Dude, Hoshi, that's so unfair._

She didn't bother with a reply but scanned the ceiling for any crevices where her boyfriend could hide. Ding.

 _I only had the snacks I packed. Some of those I lost when we switched planes in Rome!_

Soph was discrete in replying under the table by pretending to stretch.

 _How's it my fault for falling sleep? It ain't a short flight. I'm lucky I remembered anything._

The blonde snorted then played it off by itching her nose.

"Having issues?" Adamo asked.

His cousin met his tanned features with a smirk. "Depends. We out of ravioli?"

Adamo quirked an eyebrow before placing a shallow bowel between him and Soph. ' _Something's up. He's more stoic than usual. Looks at me like..._ ' The blonde spared a glanced to her left as she piled more food onto her plate. ' _He knows there's part of the story I'm keeping out._ '

"Nom de Guerre was it, Sophie?"

"Yup."

Nonna's spoon tapped the table's edge. "There's someone like that who can make another disappear, send them to a different country?"

"Actually, Guerre is more of a global network than a single person, and," Soph paused to suck in the ends of her pasta, "they're scary shit."

"But you went to him—her—them—whatever," Adamo pressed.

"Desperate times, Mo. Maestro had dealt with them before when she fled China. I contacted them through her old ties."

"But not her directly."

"She...disappeared before then. I...I made a mess at Palermo; I don't blame her for not wanting to be involved."

"But you involved Zia Addie." A meatball flew across the group from the older side to the younger and it made a splat sound when it his Adamo's cheek.

"Listen, boy," Mum started, "I wasn't going to let my baby run alone. I've been involved with her since the day I pushed her out of my—"

"Who were the people we buried?" Adamo interjected. Mum recoiled towards her brother's side, and Sophia burped under her breath because of how sour her breakfast-dinner had become. "There were bodies. Near unidentifiable by the time the authorities put out the fire and cleared the wreckage. But they were staged perfectly, no one thought any different. If those weren't you, who were they?"

Soph shook her head slowly.

"Did you even care?"

"It didn't matter, Mo. Whatever I felt, feel; I had to get away. I—I couldn't let the EPF find me."

"Now they're global headquarters is in the same place you went to hide."

"I didn't follow them. They follow me."

"Who needs more drinks? Nonna slammed two full wine glasses between her grandchildren—a warning. The red liquid swayed and the blonde wasted no time chugging it. Though dry, the taste complimented the meal and helped ease her muscles.

 _I think your Grandma's had a few too many of those, actually. She's been out-drinking your Grandpa AND Uncle!_

Figo's text danced slightly against the phone's dull backlight; however, Sophia insisted on pouring another glass. A Riesling, not the Merlot Nonna favored. Bitter old lady.

"Tesori," Nonna slurred. She had returned to her spot between Nonno and Zio Evasio, a hand on each of their hairy arms. "We missed you. And you...missed a lot."

"I'm so sorry about Zia Liana," Soph said. "I'm sorry for what I did. What I made Mum do. But my life now..."

"It can't be better than what's in Florence. Stay, Tesori. Come _home_."

The idea choked Sophia. A part of her wanted to agree, no doubt, but she inhaled her rosy wine in remembrance of what was plausible rather than a dream.

"I—I've made a new life in New York," she said far too softly for a proper Italian. "That's—it's..."

"Fleano and I don't have many years left."

"Don't say that, Nonna."

"People age. They die. That's life, Sophie. All a grandparent can ask for is to see that her children successful and happy."

"I am happy there," Soph whispered.

Nonna, however, shook her head of short, fluffy hair. "Dina followed your delinquent ways after you left."

Dina scoffed and pushed her thin hair back with her baseball cap. "Here we go again."

"Tagging, drunk in public, assaults with bats."

"I told you the jerks deserved it. Mo isn't innocent in all this, either."

Nonna's dark eyes found her grandson. "He straightened his life out."

"Only because you threatened not to bail his ass out anymore."

"And what's your excuse?" Adamo asked his sister.

"I'm angry at the world, _duh_."

"You three must grow up." Nonna set her wooden spoon beside her empty place yet it impacted the group as much as being hit. "Dina, despite your temper, you have a future in softball. You're a coveted athlete. Own it."

"It _does_ get me all the hotties," the long-hair blonde mused.

"You got a boyfriend, Cosciona?"

Adamo leaned forward on an elbow. "Latest model's named Tony."

Dina waved a hand. "No, I got rid of Tony last week. Too clingy. It's Vinny now."

"And what makes Vinny better?"

"He's a himbo, easy to boss around."

"Oh, cool," Sophia butted in with a grin, "I have one of those."

 _Oi, why do I have the feeling you're talking about me?_

"Dina will settle when she finds the right one," Nonna added.

"That's up for debate," Dina tacked on.

"Adamo." Attention turned to the only dark-haired member of the Santin family. "You have Febe. The greatest woman to enter your life since your mother."

"Excuse me, Nonna?"

"You know it's true, Di. She saved him. Gave him purpose. We all see that. And to know she'll be there for him makes passing easier. But Sophie..."

Nonno hummed—a deep noise. "You were with that Marco for the longest time. I hated the weasel."

"Well, I liked him," Soph said. "But it didn't turn out."

"I get the feeling that isn't because he's 'dead'," Adamo pressed.

"You've had an unsteady life," Nonno continued. "Your parents always working. What happened to Cosima. The move." Mum looked down as her father glanced her way then back at Sophia. "Don't let that scare you. You're twenty-eight; you should consider adding to our family."

"I _am_ part of a family. The Santins and...the ones from New York."

Adamo all but growled, "You mean the ones whose names you can't even tell us."

"I told you, it's complicated."

"Mo, Mo," Nonno reached over the cold food as if he could push his grandson back with the arm he waved, "let this be for now. Addie and Sophie have traveled a long way. They should get proper rest."

"Dina." One command from Nonna made the younger blonde leave her seat and follow her grandmother up the chipped stairs that lead to the back rooms.

"I—I'll start putting things away," Sophia said.

"You sure you aren't still hungry?" Nonno asked.

"Positive."

"We made all your favorites."

"And they'll be good later, too. I got this."

"Forget it." Zio Evasio shooed her away as he picked up some dishes, but his niece stole the leftovers with the ease of an acrobat.

"I can do my part, thanks," she added.

' _Besides, if Figo doesn't eat soon, my phone won't ever stop vibrating._ '

Sophia headed for the kitchen instinctually since it had been the first route she learned as a child. Something rustled inside, scraping, so the blonde clanked a metal pan against the brick wall to warn her boyfriend company was on their way. Adamo's clicking shoes weren't far behind and by the time his cousin began searching for containers for smuggled food, he stood behind her.

"You don't bother hiding that something's on your mind, do you, Mo?"

"Most of our family isn't too perceptive."

"I'm okay with that."

"Me too; it's been easier to hide what my real job is."

"What? A male dancer?" Containers in hand, the blonde rose to meet Adamo's hard stare. "Woah, serious face."

"This isn't a joke."

"I can tell."

"Will you listen? I know what's really been going on in New York."

Soph stuffed several scoops of ravioli into one container and brochette into the other, voice even, "What can you know?"

"Everything. How you took up vigilante work again. The Davuu Stone. The Island. What they did do Marco. Who saved you."

Her throat dried faster than any Merlot could as she struggled to swallow, whispering, "Ho..how?"

Adamo reached into his back pocket with great grimness. The golden badge he pulled out stopped his cousin from breathing and made her regret ever agreeing to let Figo join her in Italy.


	5. Closet

**Poor Mikey. ROFL. This may not go the way you expect, D. ;)**

* * *

 **CHAPTER 05:** **CLOSET**

Eavesdropping was a lot harder when you didn't speak the language. Michelangelo had tried for days to understand what set his girlfriend on edge, but she had been evasive and insistent on keeping him in the closet. Literally.

' _It smells like old onions in here._ ' That aside, waiting bored him to tears—no exaggeration. He yawned for the umpteenth time, teetering on his carapace as he read messages on his Smartband with hazy eyes.

 _You better be keeping a low profile._

Yeah, yeah, like he had much choice, Leo.

 _When are you going to send other pics, Mikey-niichan? The girls loved the sunrise you sent, but I want to see more!_

He was trying. Did she forget he was on lockdown? Jeez. The orange-masked mutant rocked so his feet played with the hung coats while he scrolled to another text.

 _No Wi-Fi, Mike! The Wristwatch has firewalls, but I'm not in the mood to monitor whether or not you're digitally tagged by some EPF worm floating around cyberspace there. Play Pong; it doesn't require a net connection._

Wasn't the genius supposed to be smart? That had been Mikey's first go-to until the two straight lines and white dot became maddening. Only the Santin's gourmet food made his prison sentence bearable, though meals were always a chore to wait for when the Chunin's hunger rested outside his hands. What was taking Hoshi so long, anyway?

 _Sneaking food around isn't easy, Figo. Nonna thinks I'm still hungry when I try to make a stash for you, and it turns into a whole thing. I'll be there as soon as I can._

But not soon enough. Ugh! He would waste away into a mummy before she ever—

The bedroom door swung open, knocking against the stone wall, and by the time it locked shut, Michelangelo had rolled out of the closet and bounced to his feet. "Food!" he cheered.

Sophia rolled her eyes then handed over a pasta-filled container and fork before double-checking the bedroom's barricade.

"You know," Mikey said while slurping up noodles, "if it weren't for the fact your Grandma makes such awesome sauce, I'd be tired of Spaghetti by now."

The blonde scrunched her freckled face with the most offended look imaginable. "That's Vermicelli."

"Uh...sorry?"

"We need to set aside time to educate you on pasta types."

"I look forward to it, but," the Chūnin cast a side-glance out the bedroom's narrow window, "I'd like to be educated on things _outside_ this place, too."

"No!" Hoshi fumbled, attempting to regain face although her sudden alarm only confirmed what her boyfriend suspected: something was very wrong.

"Are you going to tell me what's up?" he asked. "Or am I gunna have to find out myself?"

"Don't you dare."

"Dare what? Figure out why I'm being forced to make friends with coats in the closet?"

"No one's forcing you to talk to coats, Figo."

"Uh, it's like all I have to do while you're off playing with your family."

"It's hardly playing."

"Beats what I've been doing, and don't even get me started on that fact that no one's mentioned your dad."

"Mikey—"

"I deserve an explanation, Sophia. I've been patient, but this is getting ridiculous."

"I know, I know." Hoshi sighed, long, as she pulled her hair out of its ponytail, and the mutant watched her slowly braid it—a tell of her anxiety.

"Trust me," Mikey said. He dropped his fork into the container to bring the blonde into a side hug, whose muscles felt dense as rocks.

"I just can't believe this is happening again," she whispered.

"What is?"

Thump, thump! The bedroom door pulsed with someone's effort to force it open, and Sophia shoved his boyfriend back so hard he almost fell on his carapace.

"Get in the closet!" she hissed.

"I don't wanna," Mikey whined. He obeyed, though, hunched over his lunch before the shutter doors cast him back in darkness. "Hey again, Martha," he greeted to a green leather jacket.

Martha didn't reply; not that she stood a chance for attention when the bedroom door burst open in a display of splinters and something like sawdust. Mikey could see clearly through a broken louver that opposed the panels' downward tilt, and it required all this self-control to set aside his protective urge when Adamo slammed the fractured door behind him. His cousin screamed in Italian, a phrase Mike knew well as 'what the fuck?', but her rage left the dark-haired man undeterred.

"If this is what it takes to make you listen, so be it," Adamo said.

' _Since when does he speak English?_ ' Granted the man's accent almost strangled his words, the mutant turtle could still follow the conversation.

"Do you know what Nonna's gunna do to you for that?" Hoshi asked.

Adamo didn't even bother looking at the damage. "We need to talk."

"We did talk. I didn't like what you had to say."

"If you'd hear me out."

The blonde tossed a throw pillow from a nearby chair at the brunette then growled when he caught it. "I'm not risking it."

"Isn't it riskier _not_ to hear where I stand?"

"I don't care."

"You should."

"Don't do this to me, Mo. Please. I can't take it again."

"You have to, right?" Adamo dropped the pillow then stepped forward to grab Hoshi's elbow. Her braid began to uncoil and Mikey gripped his food container to keep still. "You're my _only_ cousin, Sophie. And Zia Addie? She's my only aunt. Do you know how _special_ that makes you? What weird family has one aunt and cousin? Like we're Americans or Chinese or something."

"I have two cousins, technically," Hoshi shot back, although her usual spunk was hampered.

"I need you to trust me."

"I want to, Mo. I do. But..."

Adamo's voice lowered. "It's been days. Have I made any calls? Marched you into Palermo HQ? Invited EPF agents to storm our castle? Anything?"

' _EPF? You've got to be kidding me._ '

"I joined because of you, _for you_ ," the brunette continued with animated gestures.

"Me?"

"That whole car crash Nom de Guerre set-up felt wrong from the beginning. We all thought so. I was just the only one who didn't accept the proof."

"When that guy does a job, he does it well, huh? Which makes it all the worse why he hasn't bothered me with—"

"Focus!" Adamo used a hand to half-spin the blonde who had begun to turn away and she met his gaze while re-braiding her hair.

"That's still no excuse to join those sleaze-balls," she said.

"What else could I do? Madame Vermillion had vanished. You vanished. Zia Addie and Marco vanished. What other lead was there for me to follow?"

"You could've let it rest. Like everyone else."

"You're family, Sophie. _My_ family. I had no choice in losing Madre. But I could find out the truth about you. And I did."

"Does it feel better?" Hoshi spat. "Knowing?"

"Yes." Adamo's back was turned, though the mutant knew his tone well enough to guess his grim yet stern expression. "I felt vindicated, and I pushed through with the job because if anyone would find you again, it was them."

"I didn't see you swooping in to save us when they sent Bear-Hounds barreling into my apartment."

"That was part of me proving my loyalty."

"Ha!" Hoshi whipped her braid over her shoulder and glanced at where her boyfriends hid. More than anything, he wanted to rescue her from the corner her cousin had backed her into. But of course, he had to stay put because he was green.

"Sophie, you know me."

"I _thought_ I knew you. Like I thought I knew Marco. Life just loves proving me wrong."

"If I did something drastic then, how could I be an informant now?"

Stiffly, glanced up from a throw pillow she wrung; Mike only noticed it when Adamo circled to the side. "The hell are you talking about?"

"I couldn't contact you first. That would've been a dead give-a-way. I had to wait for you to contact us. Otherwise, I would've raised too many red flags."

"That isn't what I asked, Dumbass. What do you mean about being an informant?"

"You think I'm still an EPF lackey for the fun of it? I joined—"

"To find me. Yeah, yeah. Could you just answer my question?"

"I would if you'd stop interrupting me!" Adamo kicked up the throw pillow from the floor to hit his cousin. Despite the downer mood and, ya know, the fact he hit Hoshi, Mike acknowledged the accuracy and dexterity used. "I've learned a lot of things about the EPF while looking for you. Found skeletons in the closet."

"What level are you again?"

"Clearance level five. Hardly above a janitor."

"Well, stop the presses; we have a prodigy on our hands."

"I've been careful to maintain this level. Unlike _some_ , I know control."

"I know control." Hoshi tossed aside the throw pillow onto the twin-size bed. "I just don't give a damn about it."

"That's a good reason you'd make a poor spy. The key is not to draw attention. Exceptional skill brings higher clearance, but also more scrutiny. You want to be unsuspecting, overlooked, a face in the crowd."

"And you've been content with being a pawn all this time?"

Adamo nodded multiple times. "I get the information I need without anyone remembering my name."

"Guess it helps that I'm Moretti and your Santin."

"Bishop's aware of the relation. It made things hard at the start, but I've built rapport."

"With the lowest scum of any international government agency. Zio Evasio must be so proud."

"He doesn't know this is my real job."

Hoshi shifted all her weight from one pink Converse to the other, biting the side of her mouth. "Does anyone know?"

"Dina," Adamo admitted. "As easily as we all knew you were Starberry Girl."

"That simple, huh?"

"It was in your case. Sure, Nonna and Nonno acted like there was no obvious connection, but Zia Addie would call Papà when she was worried, when you were out or came home injured. He helped keep her strong, so she could be strong for you."

Plastic cracked between Michelangelo's hands. Thankfully, too softly to draw attention. ' _This isn't fair. I should be holding her right now. And what am I doing instead? Hiding with Martha._ ' The mutant side-glanced the jacket beside his head. ' _No offense, Martha._ '

"Dina and I couldn't blame you for wanting to make a difference," Adamo continued. "Especially with what happened to Cos. We cheered for you. On the sidelines. Then everything went to shit."

"I never meant for any of that," Sophia whispered in return.

"No on blames you."

"They should."

"Doesn't matter."

"It matters. So many people got killed, we left you, and then you go and _join_ those bastards?"

Adamo stood tall yet barely taller than his blonde cousin. "Those bastards were my only link to you."

"They do shitty things to their people. Everyone who joins thinks they're protecting humanity and providing a great service, but their contingencies to keep their agents from talking—"

"I know all about the implant."

"Then how are you talking to me? Aren't you scared?"

The brunette said something in Italian, so faint Mikey saw his lips move more than heard him. "The implant can't monitor everything and the only way Bishop could convince us to agree to it is that he can't record us."

"He lies."

"He does. But I have a tech friend who confirmed it's less of a communicator and more of a cyanide-bomb triggered by certain phrases."

"I'm guessing the people with lower clearance have fewer trigger phrases?"

"Exactly."

"Shouldn't the word like 'Sophia' be a trigger or something?"

"Considering we mention you daily? No."

"Daily, huh?" Sophia flashed a smirk Mikey knew was half-felt, judging by how tightly her fingers gripped her forearms.

Adamo took notice of the stress and his pretty-boy features softened as he gathered the blonde in a hug her boyfriend wanted to give. "It's dangerous work. So is being Starberry Girl. Or a Phantom."

"Mo—"

The hug strengthened. "Family sticks together. No matter their mistakes, their opinions, their _interests_. I've been here for you, and I will be for as long as I'm able. Just ask."

Sophia shook, and Mike leaned closer towards the closet door to see if her tears fell. They did, which made the mutant ache inside. Was it worth maintaining his cover? Adamo may've been EPF, but Mike felt assured of his intents and Hoshi's belief in him. Were all that true, the brunette knew who the Hamatos were—knew of mutants and aliens and government experiments—so why hide?

' _Leo, I know you said to keep low, but Hoshi needs me. And Adamo could make a perfect inside man. He could start a top-secret spy-thingie with Donny. Donny would know just how to keep it all encrypted, too, just like the e-mails. Wouldn't that be, like, a tactical advantage? I wouldn't make me reckless or_ —'

"Dina?" Sophia's alarm made Michelangelo sink further into the closet. From the broken louver, he could see a curvy-thigh blonde in a baseball cap and jersey. She blew a bubblegum bubble, expression deadpan behind her thick-rim glasses.

"What're you doing here, Di?" Adamo asked.

Dina's bubble popped as she shrugged. "It's my room, Asshole."

"Wait, you speak English too?" Hoshi added.

"How else am I supposed to flirt with American tourists?"

"Mierda." Hoshi distanced herself from Adamo then hit her forehead with her palm, but Dina still looked unconcerned.

"Hey, you guys do you. I'll do me. Kay? Don't worry about how much I heard."

"Which was how much?"

Dina grinned at her brother, reminiscent of Sophia. "Let me get my jacket and I'll be on my way."

Dina took a step forward, though Hoshi was quick to block her. "What do you need a jacket for? It's summer."

"Doesn't feel like it in the clubs."

"Then dance. It'll warm you up."

"Seriously, Scheletro, move."

"Don't be a fifona."

Dina huffed and shoved Sophia into Adamo as if experienced in stunning the second blonde. Michelangelo was well-aware he had nowhere to retreat—not a back panel, a hole, or even blanket to pretend he was a large vacuum. All he had was a half-eaten container of pasta, marinara-stained lips, and a sheepish smile when Dina swung open the doors to reach for Martha.

Time slowed when she looked over her shoulder to speak in the flattest voice, "There's a mutant in the closet."


	6. Figo

**Life ain't always pretty. Especially when you have Turtle Luck. LOL**

* * *

 **CHAPTER 06:** **FIGO**

Shit. Fuck. Damn. And everything in between! Count on Sophia's luck to realize her fears. One cousin part of her sworn-enemy's organization then the other finds her mutant boyfriend hiding in the closet? Figures. But the bigger question became: why was Dina so nonchalant?

"Uh," Soph gapped for words as the other blonde slipped into a green leather jacket.

"You were more articulate than this five minutes ago," Dina added.

"Di's seen mutants before," Adamo supplied. "One of those off work days. Bad mission. Needed help. Uh"—the brunette scoff-laughed—"it's more surprising that he's _here_."

"Yeah," Dina said, "and why my closet? It has, like, almost no cover. Mo's would've been a better choice; it's bigger and the stone fell off on the side so now there's an escape route."

Soph's brows knitted together. "Since when?"

"Last winter. We had to stuff it full of blankets to stop the draft."

Michelangelo made a squeaking noise, clutching his Vermicello against his plastron. "You mean I could've had more space, a way out, _and_ blankets?"

"Don't act like I kept you in a prison!" the older blonde cried.

"A closet's similar."

"No one asked you, Cosciona."

"Can—can I get this on record?" The cousins faced the orange-masked mutant who forced a smile like Capo would pop out of the shadows anytime. "You, me, us; we're cool? You don't wanna scream or faint or—"

"Meh, Dina said, straight-faced.

"I've seen uglier," Adamo tacked on.

Soph punched him in the arm, hard. "Every time you look in a mirror."

Figo breathed a sigh of relief as Dina laughed dryly, but concern left him rigid. His blue eyes caught his girlfriend and in seconds she came to his side, messaging his forearms. Although he kept collected, his pebbly skin was more prominent than usual—a heart-breaking sign. 'It's okay,' she told him through her touch. He nodded, inhaling while their foreheads connected.

"Have I mentioned how weird your growth-spurt has been?" he asked in a whisper.

"Oh, no way." Dina somehow managed a whimsical tone regardless of how lifeless she looked behind her glasses and side-turned cap. "You jumped from Marco to...him? Is it a him?"

Adamo nodded at his sister and although Figo's dark-green blush made Soph want to pile on the teasing, she acted as a physical guard between her loved ones. "You have no room to talk," Soph said. "Remember that guy you once dated? The one with the over-bite and big ears."

"Ah," Adamo chuckled, "rat-face."

"That was in, like, fourth grade," Dina defended.

"Still counts."

"Least he wasn't green."

"You discriminating against skin color now?" The blondes stared, one more hotly than the other, and Adamo waved for attention.

"How about we talk about this over a grocery trip?" he asked. Seemed perfect, so Sophia nodded.

Figo, however, scrunched his face. "Don't you guys buy food every night?"

"Yeah," answered Dina.

"What happens to it?"

"We eat it."

"In a day?"

Adamo exchanged looks with his sister and cousin then grinned lopsidedly. "If you've been skulking around all this time, you see how much we eat."

"Eating is what Italians do," Dina added.

"And drink," the brunette amended. "Don't forget the drinking."

"We won't be long, Figo, promise," Soph told her boyfriend.

"Fine, but," the mutant whined, "don't stuff me back in the closet."

"That's some cruel and unusual punishment," Dina said before popping her gum.

"Well, now that you won't consider it weird for me to hang out in Mo's room without him, I guess Figo can upgrade."

Dina popped another bubble. "Why have him in a closet at all?"

"Maybe because he doesn't exactly match Nonna's décor? Where else could he stay off the radar?"

"Basement." The second blonde waited for Sophia to quirk a brow before popping a premature bubble and continuing, "It's been upgraded since you left. Mo and I semi-finished it. It at least has a platform so your feet don't get wet from runoff pooling in it and we salvaged some furniture and a mini-fridge. It's our own little oasis."

"What happened to Il Cesso?"

"Still there," answered Adamo. "We just enjoy swimming in it less when there's snow outside. No one else goes down there anymore; Nonno moved the wine. This guy, uh..."

Figo faced the brunette. "Michelangelo."

"Michelangelo can have free-reign. If anything, it's more hospitable than a closet."

"Cool," Figo brightened, "at least someone around here is nice."

Soph narrowed her eyes at the spotted mutant. "Don't make me regret waking you when we got to Rome."

"Wouldn't dream of it, Hoshi."

"Yeah, yeah. Now get to the basement; my cousins and I have some chores to do."

* * *

"A mutant, huh?" Dina asked. "I always knew you had strange tastes, Scheletro."

Sophia glanced at her now-shorter cousin, lapping up melted Lemon gelato that dribbled down her waffle cone. "That's saying something coming from the girl whose favorite flavor is Ricotta Cheese and Pear."

"Woman, not girl. And it's a popular flavor."

"Popularity doesn't save it from being gross."

"It kind'a does."

"Doesn't."

"Does."

"That's like saying Mo's Custard Cream is acceptable because it's popular. And we both agree on that." The blondes turned attention to their only dark-haired family member, who sucked off the top from his pale yellow treat, and they both shivered at the sight.

"Let people enjoy things," he told them with a full mouth.

"Not you," Soph added.

"Not that thing," Dina tacked on.

"I'll throw your asses off this bridge, I swear."

The older blonde laughed; they all knew his threat was hollow and she gave his shoulder a nudge as they continued down Ponte Alla Carraia. ' _Lord, I missed this. Gelateria. The Arno's stag smell. The Osprey. My cousins. I don't think I could stay away another seven years._ '

"So, what was his name again?"

Soph faced Dina. "Huh?"

"The overgrown turtle we left in the basement. What was his name?"

"Michelangelo," Adamo answered.

Soph sent him a look then bit into her Lemon gelato when Dina snorted, saying, "Classic. You couldn't be more fit."

"Ha, ha, Cosciona."

"I'm serious. Mo was always complaining about Marco."

"Guy was a creep," Adamo muttered.

"A creep who cared," Soph added, "in his own creeper way."

"He got dealt a shitty deal," the brunette continued, "but if anyone had to make it off the Island, I'm glad it was you."

"You aren't the only one..."

"Guess a guy is guy," said Dina with a shrug. "Think as long as you can handle his faults, it's mostly the same gig."

"You obviously aren't searching for the right person," argued Soph.

"You keen to set me up with one of Michelangelo's brothers?"

"Sorry. They're all taken."

"Maybe just as well. I'm more into pink than green, anyway."

Soph grinned "There's some green I just can't resist."

"Uh, ew," Adamo interjected. He made a face that was beyond justified for someone who still willingly ate his Custard Cream dessert.

"How'd he get here?" asked Dina.

"Swam."

Dina paused a beat then freed a hand to flick off her cousin. "Why does he call you hoe-see? Is it because you like to flaunt like a hoe?"

Cue Soph's time to flick off. "It's pronounced hoe-she.

"So, you're a female hoe."

"No, Idiot, it's Japanese for star."

"He's Japanese? Doesn't sound it."

"His heritage includes Japanese. How much each brother decides to practice it is their choice."

"And you call him Figo. That name's a stretch, though, even for you."

"It was meant to be ironic."

"But how ironic is it really?"

Sophia chose not to answer; even to herself, she found it hard admitting how she genuinely thought of her boyfriend as a badass.

"Well," Dina continued, "guess we should be thanking him, all things concerned. If he's gone through that much crap for you already, I doubt he'll turn his back on you anytime soon."

Just the thought made Soph's stomach drop. "Too bad for us, he's stuck with me, and I'm stuck with him."

"Geez, you got it bad. And you haven't married the guy yet?" Dina must've overlooked the technicalities of marriage. Then again, she often overlooked many things, and Sophia was no different.

She leaned towards her cousin's nasty flavor cone. "Can you keep a secret?"

"Are we asking dumb questions now?" The shorter blonde grinned wryly and Soph snorted before she reached into her athletic sock to pull out a small box hidden by her high-tops. Dina sucked on her lips a moment, eyeing the velvet case as they walked. "Tell me you don't keep an engagement ring in your sweaty socks."

"Like your socks are any better," Adamo cut in. He was lucky to be out of his sister's reach and that both her hands were preoccupied with gelato and inspecting the box.

"This ring is huge, Scheletro!"

"Pure Titanium. Custom size. Engraved on the inside."

"How much did this cost?"

"I'd rather not think about it, especially on my wage."

"Poor pizza girl."

"Shut up."

The blondes exchanged a glare as Adamo reached for the ring next. Sophia continued to finish off the top half of her gelato, acting disinterested even though she watched her cousin in her peripheral vision. She could recall what he experienced by memory: the cool metal, the crisp edges of the stars etched in sporadic layers along the thick band, the weight only a mutant turtle would find trivial.

"How long have you had this?" the brunette asked.

"Oh, you know."

"It's been over a year, hasn't it." Adamo handed the box back with a smile much like his sister's. "Coward."

"I'm not a coward."

Dina began making clucking sounds and Soph swiped an arm at her while Adamo continued, "Your commitment issues haven't gotten any better, I see."

"I'll have you know, I've been with Figo for a happy three years."

"Impressive," Dina chimed, "that's about twenty-one Sophia years."

"That's dog years."

Dina's eyes scrunched behind her glasses in humor. Little bitch.

"Seriously, though, what's the holdup?" the middle cousin tacked on. "It isn't like you doubt you love the guy or think things won't work out."

"I'm not sure, to be honest," Sophia answered. She stared down at her near-melted gelato, sighing. "It just scares me. And I think part of me is a little...ashamed."

"Because he's a mutant?" Dina asked lowly.

"No. 'Cuz of a Mum."

"Zia Addie?"

"It seems wrong to flaunt marriage in her face when things with Quel Coglione went downhill."

"Soph," Adamo started, "your father shouldn't be a reason to deny yourself happiness."

"I can't help it," Sophia spat. "He destroyed our family, got Cos killed. Mum cries every day thanks to _him_ and she expects to give him a chance to make _amends_?"

Dina paused, mid-chew. "I think we just jumped topics. What the hell are you talking about?"

"The other reason we came back to visit."

"Your father?"

"Mum wants us to see him."

"Both of you?"

"Yup."

"Together?"

"Uh-huh."

"With Zio Eligio?"

Soph's cone cracked, its yellow gusts oozing from its fracture around her fist. "Oh, I think it's a bad idea, too. First thing I'll do when I see his face is punch it."

"Do you even know where he is?" Adamo asked. "We lost track of him long ago."

"He's in Calenzano."

"That close?"

"In convenient distance to see you all, yeah." Dina offered a few napkins for the gelato mess and a rare sympathetic look as her cousin cleaned her hand. They kept quiet, perhaps remembering that Soph would lash out otherwise, which gave her time to recollect her emotions as they tossed their trash into a bin at Ponte Alla Carraia's end. "Mum didn't want anyone else to know."

"We'll keep quiet," Adamo said.

"Yeah," Dina slipped a hand under Soph's arm, "no one wants to hear Papà and Nonna boil over."

The older blonde managed a smirk. "Mo's going to have an ear-full already with what he did to your door."

The brunette cursed under his breath. ' _He forgot already. Idiot. It's his own fault. I ain't sticking up for him. Serves him right for putting me in this position. Although...it is nice they know the truth; hiding things gets tiring. I just wish it had been under better circumstances and Mum changed her mind about seeing that guy..._ '

"Alright, I didn't drop a day at the club to watch you mope." Dina's grip on Sophia tightened, bringing attention to their sweat that reminded the blonde of how long they had walked and how hot the Florence sun had become. "You need pampered."

Adamo groaned.

"Silence, boy!" his sister added.

"We got groceries to shop for, Di."

"So? Sundown ain't for a while, and who knows when I'll next get this chance? Not every day you can go to the hair parlor with your dead cousin."

"Hair, huh?" Soph mused.

"It's getting too long. For you. Looks weird."

"I _have_ considered layers for a while."

"See? We can go to Graffiti," Dina sang. "Izzy still works there."

"She does?" It was surprising that the elderly stylist still had a job, let alone the same one that the cousins often exploited while Soph was in her Goth phase. "Can we get something similar then?"

"Uh," Dina's scrunch pushed up her glasses, "I don't do short hair."

"I never mentioned cutting it, did I?"

"So what do you mean?"

"A matching dip-dye."

"I'm liking. Color?"

"Che, what other option _is_ there?"

"Pink"

"Of course."

"Kill me now," Adamo whined. "I'm bored just hearing about it."

"Then you go shopping alone," Dina countered.

"Go keep Figo busy or something," added Soph. "Have some guy time or whatever. You need more of that."

The brunette chest puffed out his designer t-shirt. "I have guy friends."

"Name one."

"If I told you that, I may have to kill you. They may not be guys I can bring around for wine, but they're—"

"Adamo, watch it!" Both Dina and Sophia pulled Adamo back by his shirt collar in time for a yellow Jeep Italia to swerve to an inner lane around the Piazza Carlo Goldoni roundabout.

"What did Madre teach you about looking both ways before crossing?" Dina snapped.

' _That's right._ ' Soph shook her head as her heart rate eased. ' _He's as bad with streets as Tatuaggi._ ' She intended to make a comment about it, too; up until the same yellow Jeep came full-circle. The blonde watched it pull aside where it shouldn't outside Credem Banca—already a red alert without the passenger calling for attention over the annoyed traffic.

"Hey, Adamo! Adamo! You okay, man?"

"Ah, speak of the devil," Adamo said.

"These your friends?" Soph asked.

"Yeah."

"That mean you gotta kill us?"

"I won't, but if they identify you," the brunette frowned, "they might."


	7. Il Cesso

**Depression sucks...Thanks for the reviews, though, guys. Keeps me wanting to post. If sporadically.**

* * *

 **CHAPTER 07:** **IL CESSO**

The castle basement wasn't so bad. The stench and dampness reminded Michelangelo of early days living in Manhattan's sewers. But that didn't mean the Chūnin stopped scheming for his next chance to go upstairs. Avoiding the elder family members came as easy as avoiding the kitchen, and stone floors made it all the better to slip down the halls to Dina's bedroom.

' _Hoshi's the only one we're waiting on, so fingers crossed I won't walk in on anything that'll get me punched._ '

He slipped through the splintered doorway without a sound and stopped himself before he said anything. Sophia had dressed in a cute bikini, whose ruffle-top almost matched her dip-dyed hair and gave the look of actual breasts. Not that he'd mention _that_. He valued his nerves and found her long legs and torso much more appealing, especially since their sun-kissed coloring created a sexy contrast to the white tunic she pulled over her head.

"How long you gunna stand there creeping?"

"I'm a ninja," Mikey countered. "That's synonymous with creeper."

"Guess I am a magnet for creeps."

"But I'm your creep."

"Idiota." The blonde's pride strangled her laugh as Mikey spun her, encircling her bony waist. "Guess you don't need a swimsuit, huh?"

The mutant grinned. "I'm an all-purpose sort've turtle. I got my daywear, formal wear, nightwear, swimwear, and yes, my _special occasion_ wear in one lean, green package. Give or take a few elbow pads." He won in coercing out his lover's full laugh plus her snort when he wiggled his eye ridges, although stress lingered in her hazel eyes. "You okay?"

"Those guys from yesterday got me on edge."

"You don't say. But they didn't recognize you, right?"

"Mo introduced me as Sonya and by the time one of them hit on me, Di was dragging me to Graffiti."

"One of them hit on you?" Mikey feigned jealousy that only made his girlfriend quirk a thin-plucked brow. "Guess off-duty EPF goons are less observant."

"Not according to Mo. They just have selective memories when it comes to faces on their most-wanted list."

"Not that I'm complaining, but...I thought you'd be pretty high on that list."

"You want Mo to invite them over, so we can tell them how wrong they were?"

"What? And have them tripping on themselves to impress you? I think not."

The mutant chuckled from deep inside his throat—a sound that roused goosebumps over Soph's body. Their coarseness brushed against the skin the lovers exchanged when the blonde drew Mikey in for a deep kiss and when they parted, he had to remind himself to behave for multiple reasons. ' _Quick, brain, distraction!_ '

"Love the new look, Hoshi."

"You've told me that."

"True. But yesterday it was dark."

"What about this morning?"

"That was, like, hours ago. In different lighting." The Chūnin ran his fingers through the prominent layers, from the palest top to the pinkest ends. "Sophie: my grunge Barbie."

Hazel eyes narrowed as Soph jabbed a finger into her boyfriend's plastron. "Don't _ever_ compare us again. Capito?"

"Capito, capito." Mikey lowered the hands he had just raised in surrender as the blonde stalked past him, and he trailed her faithfully as they made their way back to the basement. In the moist underground two Santin cousins waited: one dressed in neon swim trunks, the other in a dark bikini, but both equally browned.

' _Makes me kind'a jealous I can't tan. Then again, what would a tan be for me?_ '

"Hey." Sophia greeted. She added something else in Italian, pulling Michelangelo behind by his hand.

"Took you long enough," Adamo said. He stood from a scuffed couch and the wooden platform below it creaked with his weight. "I swear, sometimes you can be such a girl. Even Di doesn't take this long."

"Save it, Mo. You losers got our stuff?"

Dina nodded as she resituated her pink-tip ponytail through her baseball cap. "Towels. Drinks. Tanning oil. Floats. And last but not least." The younger blonde held out a pair of star-shaped sunglasses that matched the ones she slipped on herself, and Soph accepted them with a smirk.

"What about me?" Mikey whined.

"Like they make glasses big enough for your weird head, Figo."

The mutant faced Dina and Adamo, gesturing toward his girl. "You see the abuse I put up with?"

"Give it fifteen more years," said Adamo flatly.

Dina popped a bubble. "Then you can talk."

"Let's just go already; we're burning daylight."

The brunette watched Soph cut between the trio. "We were waiting on _you_."

"Now we're waiting on you. Hurry up. Figo, help Mo with the gear."

"Bossy, ain't she?" Mikey asked Adamo.

"And mean."

The men exchanged smiles, their shared humor clear, and Mikey opted to carry the cooler while Adamo pulled a hefty beach bag onto his shoulder. They followed the women to a narrow stairway made of worn stone. The mutant's carapace knocked against its walls in echoing clicks and he made sure to watch the path for missing stones in the steep decline. The one time he did glance up, he managed to catch the Florence vista as well as an odd fact.

"Hey, guys," he said, "are these windows—"

"Uneven?" Dina asked. "Yup."

"They're carved into stone. How'd someone just miss that?"

"Contractor was drunk," answered Adamo. "Just one of many reasons this place was forsaken."

"Geez, Hoshi. No wonder you never complained about living in the sewers."

Dina stopped, turning so sharply that Mike needed to brace his arms against the cold stone to keep Adamo from pushing him over. "You made my cousin live in the sewers?" she hissed.

"Not anymore."

"Relax, Cosciona; we've upgraded. Can't say the same for you."

A slap joined the drips of water from the ceiling and footfalls as the stairs' tunnel opened up into bright sunlight. The heat increase was evident, even in the shelter provided by cliff-growing trees, but Mikey continued down the winding path without complaint. They deviated from the steps a long ways from the castle, when the ground evened, and after a trek through unruly nature, they stopped at a hole that could fit a tractor-trailer length-wise. It smelled of dirt and its rocky edges were overgrown with moss, ivy, and vines—a picturesque sight ideal for a postcard.

"Is this it?" Michelangelo asked.

"No," Dina replied, "we stopped at a _different_ swimming hole for the hell of it."

"There's two?" The orange-masked Chūnin smiled at the dry look the second blonde gave then sniggered when she snatched the cooler away.

"Should we give him the traditional initiation, Scheletro?"

Mike had no time to consider what that meant; a trained kick to his carapace sent him careening down the hole in an effortless arch. The sudden shock from over-heated to cold left him struggling for air, and he couldn't be more thankful to be part-Slider than when he swam towards refracted sunrays. His strength breeched the surface with a force that half-propelled him out of the water, where he heard claps and laughter.

"You okay, Figo?"

Mikey narrowed his eyes at Soph when she climbed down the wooden ladder she never offered, and his teeth chattered as he swam to the floating dock anchored to the two-story-high walls. His girlfriend did a nice thing in helping him up the algae-slick side then a not-so-nice-thing when she sat on him, nearly toppling them back into the pool.

"You have been dubbed an honorary Santin," Adamo said. "How's it feel?"

"Ch—chilly," Mikey replied.

"That's only because you need conditioned," Dina added while laying out towels along the dock.

"I'm sure my tolerance would be be—better is someone didn't _kick_ me down a twenty-five-foot hole."

The Italians made a face then waved him away before they returned to unpacking their goods. Mike lacked the will to question the looks. Instead, he enjoyed the blonde in his lap, the mountainous bird calls, a break from the winds, and the literal blue water.

* * *

Man, could Michelangelo get used to Italian life. Plenty of food, fun company, and the perfect get-away hidden from the outside world. He sipped soda through a crazy straw, lounging on a raft in the clearest water he had ever seen in his life. ' _I've never been able to see the bottom of anywhere I swam before. Seems unreal...and a little quiet._ '

"Guys," he addressed, "did no one bring tunes?" He opened his eyes, head lulled to the side so he could see the humans sun-bathing in a similar fashion.

"Tunes?" Adamo asked.

"Yeah, music. Shouldn't someone be playing the accordion or something?"

"Don't you stereotype us, Figo," Sophia warned.

"You saying you _don't_ like the accordion?"

"Of course not; Mo ruined it for us."

Dina hummed from her face-down position on her lounge raft, voice muffled, "The sound of that dying cat still haunts my dreams."

Adamo tossed a chip at his sister, though the water current rendered his attempt moot. "I wasn't that bad."

"Ask the neighbors."

"What neighbors?" questioned Mike with a laugh. "You guys have almost no one around. You aren't even really part of Florence, are you? You're...no man's land. Why did your family buy that castle in the first place?"

"Oh, we didn't buy it," Soph answered.

The mutant watched her slender body arch on her raft, raising an eye-ridge. "No?"

"Nope."

"Did you...steal it?"

The cousins chuckled, and Soph raised her wine glass as if its reflecting sunrays acted as a beacon for attention. "You may've noticed, but our home isn't the prettiest castle. Not even by Thirteenth-Century standards. It was meant to be a look-out, but so many things went wrong that the project was abandoned. That's when the Santin's moved it."

Another glass raised as Dina added, "We are a heritage of proud peasant squatters!"

"Squatters?" Mikey echoed.

"Why's it funny?" Soph countered. "It's exactly what the Hamatos do. My family's just been doing it for generations."

"We wouldn't let a name like Castello Piscio deter us."

The mutant wiggled his raft so he could spot Adamo. "What _does_ that mean anyway?

"Piss Castle," Soph sang.

"It may not be grand," Adamo continued.

"And leaky," Dina chimed.

"And drafty," the older blonde added.

The brunette nodded. "And sometimes we fear we'll fall right off the cliff."

There was a long pause before Mike asked, "But?"

"But what?" Soph countered.

"But what's good about it?"

"Oh, nothing. That was it."

"It may be a dump; that's alright. It's ours. Like our paradise here."

"You know," Mikey started, "I'm almost scared to know what you call this place."

"Il Cesso." Adamo obviously smiled. "The toilet."

"It's a title, though," Dina said. "Not an insult."

Sophia joined in the laughter. "At least it's not radioactive!"

Mike watched them all, particularly the blonde who shined brighter than the sun. ' _It's so obvious these people raised her. I've seen her smile so much. It's a shame we have to go back._ ' Well, he had a new appreciation for what Leo felt when Coyo left South America for him and he made a mental note to sympathize with the Jonin as he sucked in the clean, summer air.

"Thanks," he announced. The group hummed for an explanation, which the mutant gave without ever lifting his head. "I've never done something like this before. I mean, Casey's Farmhouse has a pond, but it's got nothing on Mediterranean quality. This may seem simple to you all. It's not. Guys like me can't just hop into a local pool and break out the snacks, yanno?"

"I know," said Sophia gently. "That's why I asked if we could come out."

"Swimming holes are always more fun with company," Dina tacked on.

"I've been meaning to ask, though." Adamo's raft squeaked as he leaned up on his elbows, jutting his chin in Mikey's direction. "Why do you need a raft?"

"What do ya mean?"

"You're a turtle, Man."

"Are you stereotyping _me_ now?"

Faint beeps cut the banter short. That didn't stop Michelangelo from slapping water towards Adamo as Hoshi paddled to the floating dock. She half-climbed onto it to reach her cell phone and kept her lower half on her raft while answering.

"Ciao, Mum!"

There was a pause before the blonde hit a button and Adeline replied, "Ciao, Sophie. Where are you?"

' _She's using English?_ ' Mike couldn't tell if that was good or bad and made his way closer to better hear the conversation.

"We're at Il Cesso."

"Your cousins, too?"

"Si. They're alright with Figo; don't worry."

A second pause followed where the mutant only heard disturbed water from curious rafters closing in on Sophia. "I need you to come home."

"For?"

"You know."

The blonde sniffed. "I'm busy."

"So clear your schedule."

"Well, I don't feel like going to Calenzano."

"You won't have to."

"What do you mean?"

"We're meeting at Cimitero Di Terenzano. We're going to see Cosima's grave."


	8. Tears

**I sympathize with Soap surliness a lot ATM. D 'n Sciencegirl, thank you. Though we aren't at the happy bit quite yet. Musicluvr86, the comment is more appreciated than you know. It's been feeling like no one cares for the couples anymore, so. Thank you as well.**

* * *

 **CHAPTER 08:** **TEARS**

Cemeteries. Sophia couldn't escape them, could she? They were her curse, her poltergeist, and their haunting made her sicker and sicker each time she visited them. She held onto that bitter thought as her mother drove them up the narrow road to Cimitero Di Terenzano, even more so when she spotted the steeple of the pitiful chapel above the gnarled trees.

' _This place is more pathetic than I remember._ ' And twenty-some years ago, it had seemed insulting to bury Cosima there. ' _But of course I was just the kid and this has been a Santin burial site since before we moved into Piscio. A poor man's end._ '

"Ready, Tesori?"

Soph pulled down the rim of the lucky baseball cap Dina had let her borrow, refusing to meet her mother's stare as they exited the parked car.

"Don't be that way," the older blonde snapped. "This is hard for me, too."

"So why are we here?"

"Because despite it all, he's family."

"Funny how _you_ can say that."

Mum gave a sharp look her daughter hid from with her cap, and the two settled into a tense silence as they headed for the outer-most headstones, those erected long after the cemetery lost room inside its stone walls. They followed cracked asphalt until it led into cobblestones then dead grass, which crunched below the High Tops Soph refused to look up from. What would be the point in working herself up over the brown scenery, the extra heat she absorbed from the sun, or even—damn.

The blonde kicked, and thankfully, Mum made no mention of the dust the wind blew her way. Guess working herself up was inevitable; the place was a literal hell and her mother was marching her to see the devil. Not that she couldn't say no, despite being an adult, but an unfortunate part of her wondered what Eligio would say after so long...

Sophia swallowed bile, wishing Michelangelo could be at her other side. She'd have to settle with the thought of his emotional support, though, memories of the long kiss he gave her before she left home. It lent her strength to swallow, square her shoulders, and glare at the lanky man kneeling at a slant headstone with a pink bouquet in hand.

Mum said nothing when they stopped about two meters from him; maybe stricken by the same thing Soph was. Eligio wore all white—an awful joke—and the suit added a glow to his tan skin and slicked back hair.

"Dahlias," he said, "her favorite."

Soph's expression curdled. "Doesn't do her much good since she's dead, does it?"

"Sophia!"

"What? Why are you defending him?"

"It's alright, Adeline," Eligio spoke again in a calm voice Soph's inner child recalled well, and she had to force aside thoughts of goodnight cuddles to maintain her glare as the man placed the Dahlias down. "I prepared for this."

"Hard to do on the fly, isn't it?"

Eligio smiled. Fifthly bastard. He turned his head yet still kneeled like a servant seeking forgiveness from a royal. Man, did the blonde hate him, right down to his pointed nose and oversized jaw. She loathed even more how she had inherited his hazel eyes, which glossed her over.

"You're taller than I thought you'd be," he said.

Sophia crossed her arms. "Yeah, well, life happened."

"You're beautiful."

Ha! Snorting, Soph brought her glare to Cosima's marker.

 _OUR SHINING STAR_

 _COSIMA MORETTI_

APRIL 22

1985

 _JAN 11_

 _1995_

Shame; her family had no choice except to carve it from the cheapest stone possible, although the polished finish and etchings were in prime condition as if the years left them untouched. It must've been Eligio's care that preserved it. Still, Soph had no desire to compliment him on the diligence and instead focused on the childishly-drawn star that she had made specifically for her sister's memorial. Inside it read two words that made the pit in her stomach grow tenfold: Starberry Hero.

"I bring new flowers every week," Eligio added. He pointed to a pile of shriveled Dahlias wrapped in old newspaper. Did that make him a good man? No. It made him guilty, and Sophia's whole demeanor prickled from his misplaced tenderness. "Thank you for coming. I just...needed to see your faces. It's been so long."

"Alright, you saw our face," Soph countered. "Can we go now?"

"If you must."

"Okay, see ya."

"Sophie!" Tight fingers gripped the blonde's bicep and steel eyes let her know there would be no escape. "We came here for a reason," Mum continued in an undertone. "Go through with it."

Soph groaned when Eligio rose. Realizing his full height made her wonder if Cosima would've been giant, too, but only for a second.

The man watched her and dared step forward to point at the stars tattooed over her right shoulder. "That's for Cos?" he asked.

"The biggest one, yeah. It was my first."

"What about the others? They have names too."

"It's not your problem."

"Soph—"

"They're just other dead people. That's what friends do around me: die."

Eligio's white suit expanded with his sigh as his morose look deepened. What right did he have to give pity? Sophia didn't need pity. She needed to punch him!

"I'm so sorry, Sophia," he whispered.

"What do you care? You don't know me. You never did. You were always too busy gambling away your eros on disgusting violence."

"It's true, it's true. I know. And I'm sorry. So sorry."

Mum kept amazingly quiet. Soph had no idea why. Usually, the woman spoke her mind; it's where the blonde had inherited her brazen personality. But the older woman stood there, useless.

"We should've brought your letters to burn right in front of your ugly face!" Soph screamed.

The man smiled. "You kept them?"

' _Dammit._ '

"I—I couldn't bring myself to do anything else," Mum finally said. "Not rip them or crumple them, burn them or toss them. Especially not reply. Sophia has her's too, all the ones up until..."

Eligio's smile grew. "You don't need to explain why you moved to the US. All I regret is that you had to fake your deaths in the first place."

"That isn't your problem to regret," Soph spat. "It had nothing to do with you."

"We can regret things we aren't responsible for."

"Well, don't act like that means anything. I don't care how badly you feel."

"I'm at peace with that."

No, he couldn't be! He wasn't allowed. He was supposed to fight, defend himself, have excuses, make Sophia hate him more. He wasn't supposed to act gracious—it betrayed the villain in her memories and made her shake as tears began pooling from the man's eyes.

"Stop that!" she bellowed. "You don't get to cry! Cos _died_ , stronzo. You're here: breathing, living, standing over her fucking corpse. _You_ don't get to cry! Tell him, Mum!"

Mum clenched her hands so hard against her chest, the strain accentuated her wrinkles and double-chin wet with her own tears.

"Mum!"

"She," the older blonde swallowed, "she was his family too, Sophie."

"If he really cared, he would've saved her."

"I tried."

Sophia faced Eligio. "Like your slosh ass could tell what pit she was in."

"I could tell."

"Cazzate!" The man inhaled when the blonde lined herself up with his chest. While they were both just as slender, her stare warned that she had the experience and muscle to put him down if he retaliated. This, too, he seemed at peace with.

"I remember every bit you do, Sophia," he started. "I may've been hammered and high and stupid. But the moment I heard Cossi's little voice, my world sobered. You know that moment where time stands still and you feel weighted by boulders? I fought through that."

"Not well, apparently."

"No, but," he sniffled. "Pit Four. Sh—she was in Pit Four. Behind me. She must've passed me to get there, in arm's reach, and..."

Cosima fell. Crowds cheered. And Sophia got her first in-depth look at a human autopsy headed by dogs.

"I fought, Soph," continued Eligio. "My limbs were too heavy and the mob too strong."

"Did you hear the sounds?" Soph asked in a snide whisper. "The noises they made?"

"Skin ripping? The squelching? The screams? The snarls? The snouts that snorted blood? Yes, Sophie...I remember."

"The sm—smell."

"Unlike any I ever smelled or ever will smell."

' _If only._ ' Sophia looked to the clear sky, half-expecting it to open crack open with rain and thunder to match her turmoil. But that only happened in movies, didn't it?

"I've smelled it since," the blonde admitted. "In labs, where insane people claim themselves gods and victims suffer for it. It stays stuck in my nostrils, not always apparent. Late at night, though, if I breathe too deeply, the stench gags me. Rotten blood, ruptured guts— it means the same: death."

"You shouldn't have to know something so grim so intimately."

She shouldn't. Then again, a lot of things happened that shouldn't have.

"Sophie, Addie," Eligio spoke through choking sobs, "if killing myself would bring Cossi back, I'd hand over a knife without hesitation. But it won't. And I'm sorry. You don't have to forgive me. That's not what I'm asking. I just had to see you again. Amori miei, Tesori, my girls." The man stroked Soph's pink-tipped hair and her mother's moist cheek, and no matter how much she wanted to swat away his hand, the younger blonde froze. "I'm so proud of you."

"How can you be? I've done nothing of notice."

"Maybe not as Sophia or Sonya. Not by newspaper standards, anyway."

Just what did he know? Well, of course. If Adamo and the others deduced her alter ego, so would he. But like Nonna, and Nonno, and Zio Evasio, he didn't confirm anything with words. He only smiled through tears over a reddened face—a face Soph once printed out on paper to practice her weapon accurately, a face she swore would never affect her heart again, a face Mum reached for with care when she had more right to slap it.

Soph glared at her mother and stood her ground when the older blonde moved between her and Eligio. She shouldn't be so weak. She shouldn't return his smile or touch. She should be ready to help put the asshole in the plot next to Cosima and Sophia's fraternal grandparents.

"I spent so long hating you," Mum said brokenly.

Eligio replied just as brokenly, "I deserved it."

"You deserved more than that," Soph interjected. "More than twelve years in prison."

Still, the man's eyes never left Mum. "I did. Do. That's...that's the only reason I can't beg forgiveness."

"Imposing your own sentence won't make things better," Mum added with hitched breath. "A younger me would believe otherwise. But I've spent so many anniversaries and birthdays with your words, Eli, your apologies, your regrets, crying. I'm tired, older, I don't have it in me anymore to hate. It's so much harder than forgiving."

Turncoat! She must've spoken with Michelangelo; how else would she repeat exactly what he did that morning?

"Sophia," Mum started.

"After everything, you'd welcome him back?"

"No one is welcoming him. He doesn't expect open arms, either. He just wants to hear three words."

' _I can't do that! I forgive him, and all those years channeling anger would be for nothing_.'

Right? Maybe not. The rage inspired her to become a vigilante. It helped her persevere through Madame Vermillion's training. Fueled her through long nights. Gave her a reason to protect others, to be a hero. As many issues and as much loss she suffered, she also came out the other side stronger. Not at first; not until after she found her other half. If anything, she should let go for his sake.

"Sophia?"

The blonde glanced up, speaking hoarsely, "I forgive you."

Eligio was smart enough not to ask her to repeat herself. She heaved through her nose until the running snot almost suffocated her, and when the man pulled her and her mother into a sudden hug, she realized the sobs she heard belonged to herself.


	9. Eternity

**Well...better late than never? This is the last chapter at least.**

* * *

 **CHAPTER 09:** **ETERNITY**

Whoever thought Michelangelo would be here? Sitting on a castle patio, having a grown-up beverage with two Italians while overlooking the twilight settling across Florence? Just smell that Mediterranean air!

' _I could stay for eternity if the others were here_.' As it were, he'd have to settle for jealous faces as the clan reviewed his memorabilia.

"Is it really alright for me to be out here?" Mikey asked his hosts.

Dina chugged her red wine, so Adamo answered, "Yeah. Why?"

"Isn't your grandparents' room, like, right there?" The mutant pointed at a tower on their right that shielded them from the upper roads with its two stories.

"Date night always keeps Nonna and Nonno out late," Dina said.

"They go dancing at the clubs," her brother tacked on.

"Just how old _are_ they?" Mike's eye ridges raised as Adamo shrugged.

"Mid-seventies. Nonna needs to take oxygen with her to do it, but she does it."

"Yeah," Dina raised her glass with vigor, "we Santins are famous for partying until we drop dead!"

"I hope none of you have _actually_ died at a party." The siblings exchanged a telling look and the mutant shook his head at what an interesting lineage his lover had. "What about your father?"

"Like I said, Papà was called into the office," Adamo answered.

"Will you relax, Verde?" Dina chuckled, running fingers through her long, pink-tipped hair. "You're fine. Only thing you should worry about is how you're going to handle Scheletro when she returns from her dinner with that asshole."

"You mean her father?"

"Same thing."

Mikey lowered his drink onto the arm of his patio chair. "I think your family has been a little hard on that guy. Everyone makes mistakes."

"Well, his mistakes got our oldest cousin killed."

"It happens." The siblings turned towards the mutant, each with distinctive disgust that made him raise a hand. "Hear me out. I'm not saying it's okay or doesn't hurt, just that people are responsible things they don't mean. Car crashes. Poisonings. Freak accidents, you know?"

Dina's disgust turned into a snide smile behind her glasses. "I think being torn apart by dogs is a little more than a 'freak accident.'"

"You get my point. Eligio didn't wake up that morning and think 'Gee, know what would complete my day? Throwing my daughter into a den of Sheppards and Pits!' He feels worse about it than they do."

"How could you possibly know that?"

"I've read the letters, Dina. You should, too. They show how much responsibility he shoulders. He's heartbroken and all he wants is to see his family again."

"Why defend him?" Adamo interjected. "He's done nothing except hurt Sophie."

"He hurt her once," Mikey argued, "and he's spent over twenty years trying to make up for it."

"You can't _make up_ for getting your daughter killed."

"You saying there's no hope for someone to make amends? Yes, Eligio was the reason Hoshi and Cosima snuck into that hell hole. He didn't push Cosima, though. He alerted authorities, got everything shut down, served time. None of that makes him a bad guy. Irresponsible, not bad."

"How can you say that?" Dina whispered. Her drink was empty again, which made her grip on the glass all the more prominent. "We couldn't even have an open casket funeral because Cossi was so mauled."

"I've made mistakes, too," whispered Mikey in return. "They got people killed. Do you think I'm bad guy?"

The Santin siblings stared back with matching scrutiny for all of a moment. Adamo's EPF experience must've warmed him up to the reality faster than Dina, who glanced his way for unsaid thoughts.

The brunette's grimness made her think twice about replying and she exchanged her glass for the entire bottle of Merlot as Michelangelo continued, "Look, I've come to realize that hanging onto all of that negativity takes a lot more out of you than energy. Sophie would be better off if she just forgave him. It's been nice to see her lighter, see her smile, be in love with her city and family. Makes me realize..." The mutant peeked behind him—through an open space boxed by the upper catwalk, the tower, the mid-level roof, and the round tower. "Can I show you a secret?" he added while reaching into a pouch on his belt. He pulled out a pink ring box then opened it for his hosts to examine. "I plan to ask tonight. We go home soon and I find it more meaningful to propose in Italy."

"Wow," Dina adjusted her glasses, "that looks expensive."

Mikey laughed half from humor and half from frustration. "It was. Took a long time to save up for it, but it was worth it. She's worth it. Why are you guys smiling like that?"

Both Santins had Cheshire grins, and they leaned back in their seats as Adamo spoke, "Bet you've had this less than a year, haven't you?"

Mikey accepted the box back with a snort. "Uh, duh, why would I hold on to it for that long?"

"I think that bet's mine, Di."

The mutant glanced between the siblings. "What are you talking about?"

"Don't worry your pretty little green head about it," answered Dina. "We'll see how the night plays out. You want help setting things up?"

"Well, I had some ideas."

"Oh, no, no. This fated time has been a conversation in our family for decades. Leave the details to us and you can practice the big stuff."

Adamo nodded. "We know just the spot."

* * *

Mikey wanted to barf the entire time Dina and Adamo helped orchestrate a candle-lit setup around the top room of the castle's round tower. Sure, he got plenty of air from the multiple arched openings and had no issue with the fact that only a rusted fence kept anyone from topping down the mountain. But overlooking the final stage cemented his intent.

' _Breathe, Dude, breathe. What's the worst that could happen?_ '

She said no. Ugh, perish the thought. How could she resist him, the ultimate ninja badass? Just look at the lengths he went to make the night special.

Okay, so Adamo mainly did the manual labor—pushing aside lesser quality furniture to centralize the nicest patio set—while Dina whipped up a few of Hoshi's favorite dishes—because of course, she had that down to an art. That said, he hung the fairy lights and scattered the star confetti and lemon-scented tea lights throughout the spread over a pink tablecloth. Now, all he had to do was survive Sophia's trek down the catwalk to reach him.

"Buonasera, amore mio," he greeted at the entrance arch.

The slender blonde pushed back disheveled hair from a red imprint that proved she had fallen asleep on the car ride home then spoke in a hurried ton her lover didn't understand.

"Um...what?"

"Huh?"

Mikey gave a lopsided smile. "I didn't catch that."

"Ah, right, English." Hoshi blinked rapidly. "I said you were bold, being up here in the open."

"Yes, well, I live dangerously."

Despite obvious fatigue, the woman stifled a yawn with a grin, attention turning to the lemony setup. "Is that Zabaglione?"

Mikey hesitated to answer. "Maybe?"

"Good, I'm starved."

Hoshi forewent her boyfriend's offered hand to plop at the round table without ever giving him the chance to pull a seat out like a gentleman. It stung—he had researched etiquette for this moment—before he reminded himself who Sophia Moretti was.

' _I don't wanna marry her for manners, that's for sure._ '

"How can you be hungry, Hoshi?" he asked instead. "You had dinner, yeah?"

Reddened eyes looked up from a clear cup layered with dark syrup at the bottom, whipping in the center, and raspberries on top. "Mum can eat anywhere, anytime. She was stuffing her face for weeks after Cosmo died. How do you think she gained so much more weight than the rest of us?"

"I always thought she took after your grandfather."

"Nonno's genes didn't help. That's for sure."

"I'm surprised you aren't following in their footsteps considering."

"Considering what?"

"You eat as much as my brothers and I do. Not that I wouldn't love you if you put on weight." Sophia made a face that turned Mikey sheepish, "Er, enough about Mama A. I asked about you."

The pink-tipped blonde swallowed her fruit. "Mum could eat in front of that guy. I couldn't. I tried. He bought me all my favorite desserts like what's here. I just couldn't stomach it after..."

Mikey allowed her a few seconds to continue. When she didn't, he spoke up, "Did you do it?"

Hoshi raised a thin brow.

"Forgive him, I mean. "

The woman was quiet for a long moment, staring into her half-eaten dessert like it would excuse her from talking.

"Hoshi—"

"I did. I didn't want to, but I did. And I blame _you_."

The orange-masked Chūnin smiled. "There are worse things to be blamed for." He chuckled until his statement settled in. Then, he cringed.

His girlfriend didn't take as much offense as expected; she sighed and sunk further down her chair. "Mikey," she started, "I hadn't cried so much since my sister's funeral. "

"Even after that whole Prowler fiascos?"

"Yeah. But at the same time, I feel..."

"Lighter?" The mutant met his girlfriend's stare with contained relief.

Thankfully, sparks of her natural personality made her semi-glare. "He can't make things better, not without bringing Cosima back. He would, though, if possible. That means something."

"I understand how he feels."

"I know you do." She meant July, among many other incidents.

Hoshi left it unsaid, thankfully, and Mikey breathed in through his nose before saying, "You regret listening to me?"

"Which time?"

"Hardy har."

"I don't," she admitted. "I can breathe a little easier. Course, that could just be Italy..."

The blonde glanced out through the many arched openings. Her long sigh and whimsical stare didn't go unnoticed by her boyfriend; they formed a pit of guilt in his stomach. He watched her upturned nostrils flare while inhaling her city's scent, her freckled features ease in peace.

"It's a beautiful place," he said. "I've never seen anything like it."

Hoshi snorted. "Course not, you live in New York: land of concrete and grime."

"Don't diss my city, Dudette. You have concrete, too."

"Natural Stone. Italians are artists."

"From buildings to food, that I gathered. Except for maybe Piss Castle. Your family doesn't seem to really care about fixing this place much."

"We spend most our money on food."

The couple chuckled weakly until they fell into silence.

"So," Hoshi started, "is this a pity party?"

"Pity?" Mikey asked. "Where? I don't see any pity."

"It's in your eyes, Figo."

"That's not pity."

"Then what is it?"

Dammit, how could he explain without sounding like a fumbling idiot? How could he admit what she mistook as pity was actually a kind of love? He empathized with her, hurt for her, and wondered if Leo had faced the same question: would it be right to ask her to come home with him? Adamo could work the EPF, keep her under the radar since Bishop already knew she hung around New York. Wouldn't it be safer for her and Adeline to stay? In a moment, the mutant forgot everything he rehearsed in the bathroom mirror and he fought trembles as he realized maybe his side wasn't the best place to stay after all.

"Figo? Figo. Mikey!"

Michelangelo looked up to see Sophia's softened expression. ' _She blows a lot of hot air. It's something I'd miss if she stayed._ '

But would she stay? Should he bring it up? Was it ethical not to? Should ethics matter? What the hell were ethics anyway? Gah!

"Is it just me or did it get hotter?" the mutant asked while fanning himself.

"Maybe it's too many candles," Hoshi countered.

Excellent point. Mikey nodded as he reached for the tea lights, only to knock over a frosty glass that smelled like red grapes. His instincts made him stand to scoop the contents back. He forgot to account for how close he sat at the table, though. It rattled, knocking over wine glasses and a few other treats into lights and confetti. Hoshi stood with way more grace than he did and he cursed under his breath with words Raphy would be proud of.

' _Dude, you're acting like such a spaz! Who're are you? Don? Just ask already. Wait, no, apologize first._ ' When Mikey glanced back up, he noted how calmly his girlfriend cleaned wine off her clothes. Yet that didn't give him any strength to actually form words. He croaked, hand clenching the pouch the engagement ring sat in. _'You're an embarrassment to mutant turtles everywhere, Dude. Say something; she's smirking!_ '

"Figo, I thought you were smoother than this."

"I am! I mean, I am. It's just..."

"Just what?"

"You know you mean a lot to me, right?" he blurted. Slowly, the smirk fell and the blonde brought her hands to her pink-tipped layers. "I was really depressed for a while. It was hard watching my brothers. I thought maybe I was cursed, or just not meant to have someone, and then"—the mutant inhaled—"then you ran down the street. And kicked the shell outta some gangsters. I meant to save you. I wanted to be the hero. Turned out, you're _my_ hero."

"I'm not the hero in this relationship," Hoshi replied. She had already braided her hair and combed it all out with her fingers to start over again. "You helped _me_ live again. You..." She glanced down at her High Tops as Mikey took his first steps around the stained table.

"I've never met a girl who could roll with my banter so well. You keep me on my toes, never bore me, help me focus, and—"

Sophia reached into her sock to pull out something. "Marry me!"

The mutant stared at the box she held out with shaky hands. "Huh?"

"Ma—marry me. I—I know I'm difficult and broken, and sometimes too mean. But you deal with it. You make me feel safe, Michelangelo. It's all I ever wanted since I saw my sister ripped apart. Yo—you make me laugh, really laugh. No one else can do that. Not as often as you. I...I need you, Mikey, I..." Sophia's red eyes grew glossy as she opened the box to reveal a sturdy-looking band etched with stars. She shuffled forward, paler than he had ever seen her, and she swallowed thickly. "I've had this for a long time. I've just been scared to give it to you, scared you'd say no."

"No?" Mikey breathed. "Why on Earth would I say no? Sophie," the mutant's tone wavered when tears began slipping down his lover's cheeks, "you beat me to the punch."

"Wh—what?"

Unclipping his side pouch, Mikey pulled out a box smaller than hers, which he also opened. Gold bands were nestled inside, one that fit on top of the other. In a braided pattern on the sides, three pin-point Pink Diamonds were encrusted, symmetrical on both rings, and the biggest difference came from the larger Pink Diamond bordered by Moonstones.

"Cazzo, Figo," Hoshi whispered.

The mutant's stomach sank. "It's not too gaudy, is it?"

The blonde shook her head, crying harder.

"Oh, come on, Hoshi; you're gunna make me cry."

"You're already crying, Idiot."

Mikey erupted in a laugh, now aware of how wet his face felt. "We're just a bunch of messes, aren't we? It's like we were made for each other."

"You cheesy—" Hoshi didn't finish; she smiled through her tears, busied by handing over the much larger ring to her boyfriend.

"Does this mean yes?" he asked.

"I will if you will."

"You get that off a sauce packet?" Mike spared the blonde a smirk then angled the ring when he noticed something etched inside. One simple yet meaningful word that proved Hoshi could be just as romantic: Eternity. "You sure this is what you want?" the mutant pressed. He smiled when the blonde forced the ring onto his left hand and laughed when she stared at him expectantly.

"I would've dumped your shell long ago if it wasn't."

"Touché."

"How much longer do I gotta wait?"

"Sorry." Mike's tingling hands pulled both rings from the box, though he meant to pick up one. All well, they could separate them properly later. For now, he wanted to enjoy how the bands slipped onto her skinny finger. "Guess the next step after this is kids."

"Woah, there, Figo." The blonde laced her hands behind the mutant's neck to pull him down. "I said yes to you, not kids."

"Oh, come on. You'd make a great mama bear."

"Chill. I still haven't decided if I can go through with this whole 'I do' business."

"You can. Otherwise, you wouldn't have gotten me a ring."

Michelangelo smirked against Sophia's lips, their bodies pressed as far against each other as possible. His arms encircled her back, hands on her shoulder blades, refusing to loosen, and the blonde arched backward with the passion of his following kiss.


End file.
